Creatures Lurk Below
by freakylemurcat
Summary: High school horror AU! The gang all end up in detention together, helping prepare for the school's Halloween event. But this isn't the best time to be at school after dark - something nasty is creeping around, and it appears to be hungry. Never mind preparing for Halloween - surviving it is going to be the problem.
1. Nine Days

**Monday 22nd October**

* * *

It was half five in the morning when Kusama Nowaki was woken sharply by a howl from a distant small child and the slamming of a door. He groaned and rolled over, tucking himself into a tight ball under the sheets and hoped whichever child it was would go to the parents of the orphanage rather than to him.

Unfortunately, little fists banged on his door only moments later and a shrill voice cried his name repeatedly. As tempting as it was to ignore the noise and pretend he hadn't already woken, he forced himself out of the warmth of his bed and opened his door. Immediately a small sticky, slightly damp, creature struck him about the knees and clung on like a limpet, wailing something incomprehensible.

"Hayate," Nowaki said tiredly, attempting to pry the boy from his legs. "What is wrong?"

Hayate repeated was he had howled, only slightly slower and not anymore comprehensibly. Finally, Nowaki unhooked him and scooped him up, grimacing at the suspicious dampness.

"Have you had an accident, Hayate?" he asked resignedly. "It's all right to tell me."

Tearfully, Hayate nodded. "I tried not to. I just woke up…"

"It's all right," said Nowaki firmly. "Let's get you cleaned up and back into a dry bed, huh?"

It was going to be a long day…

* * *

At six in the morning, the bin-men rattled by downstairs and Takahashi Misaki's alarm buzzed harshly. He squeezed his eyes closed and hoped that maybe Takahiro would let him lie in a bit longer, but his brother was already moving about in the living room and there clearly wasn't much chance of a reprieve.

Soon the bedroom door cracked open and Takahiro leant in briefly. "You can go for your shower now, Misaki. Your turn to make breakfast!"

Misaki grumbled his thanks and wriggled upright, still bundled in his duvet. The apartment was already freezing – they couldn't afford to pay their aunt back anymore but the bare minimum of rent and utilities and so there wouldn't be any heating in the house until the full depths of winter. But as autumn set in, it was already chilly enough that Misaki struggling to get out of bed. It took a few minutes to stoke up his courage, but he did manage to finally shed his duvet and scuttle to the bathroom. A lukewarm shower and a quick change into his school uniform – freshly ironed courtesy of his brother – later, he installed himself in their little kitchenette and fired up the stove as Takahiro went to shower himself.

They traded duties every week, one making breakfast and preparing lunch and the other making dinner, so it was easier for everyone. Misaki tended to do the cleaning because Takahiro had a part time job to go to after school, and overall it had all worked out well. They been doing this for five years now, after their parents had tried to rush home on that wet night and Takahiro had refused to be separated from his little brother. An aunt had loaned them the money for the rent of a small flat, on the agreement that they would pay her back as much of it as possible and they did well in school.

At the moment though, Misaki wasn't doing so well in school. Takahiro was naturally intelligent, if a bit ditzy, and had his study patterns down pat already, but Misaki was sure he himself had neither of those things. His grades had been steadily descending all year – he was already due to attend detentions because of failed exams and assignments – and so the school had offered him a tutor to help stop this.

Unfortunately, the tutor they'd given him was Usami Akihiko. He was a boy in Takahiro's year, one above Misaki's, and Misaki didn't like him very much – he was overly clingy with Takahiro, but intensely grumpy with everyone else and constantly in some form of trouble. They'd had a few sessions together, and while Akihiko was a good enough teacher, he was just plain unpleasant.

Takahiro emerged from the shower and Misaki served up one of the omelettes he'd been cooking, smiling when his brother took a bite and declared it a cooking triumph.

"Have you got to meet with Usagi-chan today?" asked Takahiro, who had always liked Usami Akihiko.

"Um, no," said Misaki miserably. "I've got detention this afternoon."

"Oh yes." Takahiro's face fell momentarily, but he quickly perked again. "Oh well, even the best of us have off days right? It's nothing to worry about."

Misaki agreed vaguely, but inside he knew it was a lie. Their school was an expensive private academy, and the money their parents had left was just enough to cover the rest of their fees – Misaki didn't want to be the one who wasted it. Stomach roiling with anxiety, he picked at the remains of his omelette until Takahiro noticed the time was nearing seven and their bus would be drawing near.

* * *

On a weekend Miyagi Yoh would do his best to get up at eight and go for a quick run around his neighbourhood to keep himself in shape, and also to wake himself up for the weekend. On a weekday though, he had to struggle to get up at seven, hoping he could beat his father out of the house so he wouldn't have to talk to the man.

Ever since the Incident with the Former Teacher in the year before, Miyagi's family relationships had been slightly strained, and his old man would look askance at his son every time they encountered still. His mother hadn't spoken more than five words to him either, and would occasionally hide herself in her room and cry when he came home.

Miyagi hated being in this house, but he fought to remind himself that this was the last year he would have to be here. Come the next, he would be in university and could move away from home with the little money he had saved up in his bank. Of course, that was dependant on not being expelled – he was already on some sort of list thanks to the Incident, and the strain was showing on his school work and attitude.

He hated to admit it to himself, but he was hurting still. Sensei had been kind and interested in him and he had loved her, damn it, no matter what anyone else had said. And she was dead now, buried in a graveyard too far down the coast for Miyagi to visit with any regularity. No one had offered him sympathy with her passing, no one had even deemed him important enough to tell when she had died. The emphasis had been on keeping the pair of them apart, and that wasn't fair. Miyagi had loved her, still loved her even now, but she had cared for him like an older sister would and there had never been anything untoward in the relationship. No one believed it, of course, and the resulting furore had worn the woman down relentlessly, probably had even cause her death in the end.

He cleared the front door just as he heard his parent's bedroom door open, but he didn't pause to say goodbye. He was going to be half an hour early for his bus, but it wasn't too cold a day and he needed to grab something from the store from his lunch. The cold bus stop was more welcoming than facing the silent judgement of his home anyway.

* * *

After waking at half seven in the morning, gently chivvied from his bed by his mother hovering in his doorway for fifteen minutes, Kamijou Hiroki would have to spend a good half an hour in the bathroom, hopelessly trying to find a new style and deciding on the same one. His hair would always fight back against the comb and his face always seemed to have a adolescent shine to it that no amount of washing would take away. He wasn't a naturally vain person by any mark, but if you were going to be friends with Usami Akihiko you had to make an effort, otherwise you'd look like a tramp in comparison.

Plus if Akihiko caught sight of Hiroki's flyaway forelock on a bad day, he tended to mock his friend mercilessly. Hiroki wouldn't traditionally take that sort of thing from anyone, but Usami Akihiko was that special person who could get away with most things. Of course, extensive teasing would have to be paid back with a swift punch, but no other person would even be allowed to think anything similar without immediate retribution. He'd already inflicted any amount on people both in his year and above for picking on him this term, and he was already in trouble for it.

"Hiro-chan, you're going to be late!" His mother called from outside the bathroom. "Your father wants to know if you want a lift in the car?"

Growling, Hiroki snatched up his toothbrush and set about his teeth in a frothy flurry, even while he glared at the last cowlick that he couldn't quite stick down. His father insisted on asking if he wanted a lift every day, because he was desperate to separate his son and his son's best friend, but Hiroki always refused.

"Hiro-chan!"

He spat his mouthful of froth out and rinsed quickly. "I'm coming!" He burst out of the bathroom, grabbed his coat and bag from on top of his bed and clattered out into the hallway. His mother was standing in the hallway, holding a plateful of toast and shaking her head.

"I'll tell you father you don't want a lift then," she said, as he yanked on his shoes and leapt up to pillage the plate of toast. "You'll have to start getting up earlier, I think."

"Not a chance," said Hiroki firmly. "I'll be home late today."

"We know," said his mother darkly. "Be _good_ today."

Hiroki muttered something noncommittal, muffled by his mouthful of toast, and ran out the door. His father was already in his car and resignedly waved a hand when Hiroki ran past at full tilt.

* * *

Life in the Usami household started very early in the morning, but only if you were not the youngest master of the family, Akihiko. He would lie in bed until the last possible minute, and perhaps even beyond if he could manage it. If that meant the butler had to drag him out from under the covers by force then so be it.

This morning, Akihiko had gotten up at eight, long before it had reached that point, and so found himself not enjoying his breakfast at all, counting down the minutes before he could justify leaving and meeting Hiroki. Across the table, his elder brother Haruhiko was scowling into his bowl, occasionally glancing up to spear Akihiko with a particularly unpleasant stare, while beside him sat their father, sipping listlessly at his tea and reading the newspaper intently.

Beside Akihiko was an empty space where his mother should have been, but she was still in bed with a hangover and probably a sore throat from the amount of arguing she and her son had been doing the night before. They had clashed over Akihiko's woeful school record again, she accusing him of failing to spite her and he not saying much to prove her wrong.

It wasn't that he couldn't do the stuff – it was all painfully facile, if he was honest – but simply that he saw no point. He would receive no congratulations, no kudos, no attention, if he did well. The only thing that did get him attention these days was being bad – he was under enough scrutiny at the moment for his failing marks, his smoking habit and that brief incident with the closet and the upperclassman that still caused his father to develop an expression like he had been sucking lemons.

Almost as if the man could hear him thinking those things, his father abruptly lowered his paper and fixed his son with a gimlet eye. "You have detention this afternoon. Don't forget it."

"I won't," said Akihiko glumly, wondering how much he had to have upset Tanaka-san for the man to remind his father of that.

"This is your last chance, Akihiko," his father continued, regardless of his son's abject misery. "You screw up again, and you're expelled. I had enough trouble persuading them to let you stay after…" His face screwed up in a disgusted scowl and he almost slammed his teacup down. "So you'll do your best, you hear? Akihiko!"

"Yes, father," said Akihiko, finally pushing his plate away. "May I be excused? I'll be late to meet Hiroki."

Usami Fuyuhiko made a dismissive 'tch' noise and waved his hand briefly. Akihiko decided to take this as an invitation to go, and strolled out to fetch his bag and coat from the rack in the hallway.

* * *

It was safe to say that most mornings Takatsuki Shinobu didn't arrive at school entirely awake. He would rouse himself at eight for long enough to dress and get to the car, before slumping into a doze again while his sister was left off at her school and the car took him to his.

Once there, he would lounge in the car until he spotted Misaki arrive and after that he was free to enjoy his day of being surrounded by immature idiots.

This morning was no different, except when he scuttled to his friend's side, Misaki didn't greet him in quite the normal perky fashion.

"You're still worrying about the detention," said Shinobu, "Idiot."

"I've never had a detention before," said Misaki, hauling his bag further up onto his shoulder and tucking himself down into his coat as wind whistled sharply across the frontage of the school. "I really screwed up this time. Nii-san is really bothered by it…"

"Come off it." Shinobu clapped a hand to Misaki's shoulder and rolled his eyes. "One detention won't foul up your record at all. And anyway, now you've got Usami-senpai to tutor you, you'll probably never get another one."

Now it was Misaki's turn to roll his eyes, because there was nothing like mentioning Usami Akihiko to get Misaki into a tizzy and Shinobu knew exactly how to exploit it. "He's such a weirdo though. I had to bring him his own bento box last week to even get him to show, and he spent most of the time scribbling in his notebook rather than doing his own work or helping me." He paused and then added, "You know, my brother calls him Usagi-chan all the time. What a stupid nickname!"

"You've mentioned it," said Shinobu dryly. Whether Misaki realised it or not, Usami Akihiko was his favourite topic of conversation. "Look, never mind that. I'm in the same detention anyway, so we can keep each other company."

Misaki gave him a look. "I told you you shouldn't have said that to the teacher."

"She was wrong!" Shinobu exclaimed as they entered the school building, shuddering slightly as the first wave of warmth struck him. "She should have accepted it and moved on!"

"You probably shouldn't have called her 'dozy' though." Misaki paused and added, "And you definitely shouldn't have sworn at her when she didn't listen."

"Whatever." Shinobu directed them towards the library. "Come on, I want to pick up a book before class."

* * *

Miyagi always installed himself into the same seat at the library, often with the same poetry collections to keep himself company until people started to arrive. Aikawa Eri from the year below and Isaka Ryūichirōfrom Miyagi's own year would come over every morning and chat with him, and without fail, Takatsuki Shinobu would come creeping around the place not long after.

Shinobu's older sister Risako and Miyagi had dated for a couple years, before the Incident had gotten Miyagi into everyone's bad books and they had split up, Risako moving to an all-girls school not long after. All through the relationship, Miyagi had always had the sense that Shinobu had intensely disliked him – he had greeted all attempts at conversation with a scowl and had often simply run away when Miyagi approached him – so it was a puzzle now as to why Shinobu was apparently stalking him.

Today he excused himself from Isaka's and Aikawa's company and slipped between the shelves, winding his way around until he was able to sneak up quietly on a certain blond. Shinobu had holding a heavy poetry anthology, peering through the gap it had left in the shelf, trying to catch a glimpse of his target.

"You must really enjoy Basho," he said, grinning when the boy jumped and dropped the book on his toes. As Shinobu cursed and clutched at his injured foot, Miyagi picked the book up and carefully stowed it back on the shelf. "So what are you hanging about here for then?"

"I was just reading up on my poetry," the boy exclaimed, eyes wide and honest.

"I'm sure," said Miyagi. There was just something about those big stormy grey eyes, wide and horrified, that made his mouth dry out a bit. "So you were reading up on your poetry on Friday? And Thursday? And every day for the past month?"

Shinobu opened and closed his mouth a few times, before he looked down at his feet, clenching his hands into tight, little fists.

"Only I could have sworn last year, you absolutely hated me," Miyagi delivered his killing blow before he could get too caught up in the adorableness.

Shinobu's gaze shot up and the older man was startled to see that there were tears forming in his eyes.

"I never hated you!" he yelled, clapping a hand to his mouth immediately and then repeating himself in a much quieter tone. "I never hated you. I…" He swallowed sharply and then said, "You should take responsibility! I like you!"

"That's… nice…." Miyagi stuttered. "But what…?"

"No, I mean I like you." Shinobu blinked and clenched his jaw. "I like you, Miyagi…"

"Ohhh." Realisation sunk in and Miyagi took a quick step back. "Oh, I see."

"I've always liked you. Even when my sister was dating you, I knew you'd be better with me! It's fate that we be together!"

"Shinobu…" Miyagi braced himself for the unpleasantness that was going to follow. It wasn't that he was displeased by the confession – in fact it was nice to know that someone as cute as Shinobu liked him – but he didn't think it was right. He was still stuck on sensei, and it definitely wasn't fair on Risako. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm flattered but I don't think this would be sensible. I mean, there's been so much going on this past year for me, and your sister…" He drew to an uncomfortable finish in the face of Shinobu's expression. The pixie-ish face had crumpled into a ferocious scowl, tears leaking down his face in streams.

"I'm not going to give up on you!" he exclaimed, prodding Miyagi's chest. "You'll have to take responsibility eventually!" And with that he turned and fled, leaving Miyagi behind in shock.

* * *

Shinobu's habit of stalking Miyagi every morning no longer bothered Misaki . He would let his friend go off and obsess on his target for half an hour, while he read up on some new recipes. Cooking was Misaki's escape and he was always on the lookout for something new to create.

Today, he was thinking about some sort of warming stew for dinner sometime soon, and trailed down the shelves until he found the savoury section. One of the older students was already there; Kusama Nowaki, from the year above him, was reading through a Cooking for Beginners book. Misaki eased past him and chose a much more complicated book, flicking through the page until he found what he wanted.

"That looks good," said Nowaki after a minute, and Misaki looked up to see the bigger student smiling down at him. Misaki looked back at the page he had been reading – a one pot seafood stew that did indeed look delicious – and then nodded. "You're in the cooking club, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Misaki grinned, suddenly into his subject here. "You should come along, we do easy things too."

"I might give it a try," said Nowaki, putting his book back on the shelf. Misaki tucked his under his arm and they headed to the desk. As they walked, a small blur of blond hair and tears shot past at speed; Misaki started after him and then realised that he had little hope of catching up to Shinobu and even less of comforting him if he did manage to catch him. He remained beside Nowaki instead and promised that he would try to talk to his friend at lunch about what had happened.

He checked the book out as Nowaki spoke about preparing meals at his house, which seemed to be some sort of group home place. Misaki didn't know much about Nowaki, except that he had previously been in Misaki's year but had been moved up one into Takahiro's year for being too smart. He had been in a different class when he had been in Misaki's year, so they had never had much contact before, which Misaki was rather regretful for – the upperclassman was always friendly and seemed to work really hard when it came to his family.

"Nowaki!" A strident voice rang out, causing the librarian to drop the book Misaki had handed her and shush the offending student vigorously. "Sorry." It was Kamijou Hiroki, who Misaki feared in a deep and visceral sort of way, and he was tempted to abandon his book and run for it when he noticed the silly smile that had appeared on Nowaki's face.

Kamijou was constantly cross, and had a reputation for having a keen right hook, so why Nowaki was smiling at him like a lovesick girl was quite beyond Misaki. But Misaki now had problems of his own – Usami Akihiko was strolling across too, all tall and handsome, blonde hair swept back out of blue eyes. He didn't smile at Misaki, but his mouth quirked into the brief smirk which often substituted for it.

"How are you this morning, Misaki?" he asked, voice rumbling and smoky. Beside them, Hiroki was apparently trying to start a fight with Nowaki, and seemed to be failing greatly, which was only driving him to greater heights.

"I'm fine, thank you," he said briefly in return, taking his book back from the librarian and thanking her. "How are you?"

"All the better now you're here," said the older student, and Misaki fought the urge to scowl at him. Usami Akihiko had two settings – chilly and emotionless, or incorrigible flirt – and you could never be sure which you were going to get. Misaki wasn't entirely sure which one he preferred either.

"You think you have time to learn to cook?! Clearly I'm not giving you enough work to do!" snapped Kamijou, loudly enough that the librarian shushed him again.

"But Hiro-san teaches me so well, I can't help but get my work done!" answered Nowaki, still using his softest, happiest voice. There was a slight crook to the smile on his face that indicated he knew exactly what he was doing to drive Kamijou insane, and Misaki found his amusement catching.

Fighting to cover his smile at the pair's antics, Misaki looked up at Akihiko expecting to see a similar smile. He was badly disappointed – there was no smile, no amused glimmer in his blue eyes. Instead, Usami Akihiko looked heartbroken, lips slack in misery, eyebrows tilted down, shoulders hunched in. Misaki followed his gaze and found himself staring at his brother.

Takahiro was accompanied by his new girlfriend, a pretty girl in his year called Manami. They were in the corridor outside the library, Minami joking and laughing with Aikawa while Takahiro chuckled along. He and Minami were holding hands, and occasionally she would sort of bump against him, the physical contact purely innocent but oddly intimate at the same time.

Did Akihiko have a crush on Manami then? But no, Misaki had never seen them together. What he had seen a lot of was Akihiko paying ridiculous amounts of attention to Takahiro though, and a thought bubbled up. Takahiro had never seen Akihiko's attention as anything but platonic, but he had been treated in a remarkably affectionate way and responded in kind, with a caring friendship and childish nicknames. It was almost certain that Akihiko knew he had no chance, but Takahiro had accidentally strung him along despite this – what self-respecting teenaged boy called another 'Usagi-chan' without it meaning something? As much as Misaki didn't particularly like Akihiko, he wasn't a bad person and definitely didn't deserve to look as miserable as he did right then.

Misaki struggled to find words that might comfort the older boy, and accidentally blurted out, "Usagi-san…"

Immediately that gaze sharpened and swung down to focus on him, eyes briefly narrowed in consideration.

"Uh, sorry, I didn't mean to say that! Sorry!" Misaki backtracked furiously, struggling to shove his borrowed book into his bag so he could flee. A heavy hand scrubbing his hair stopped him and he looked up gingerly to find Akihiko smiling down at him weakly.

"You can call me that. I quite like it."

"You're sure?" stuttered Misaki.

"Absolutely certain," said Akihiko firmly. He already looked a little cheerier, and Misaki sought for find something else to seal the deal.

"I won't be able to make the tutorial this afternoon," he said, "But I'll make up for it tomorrow and bring you lunch? I noticed you don't eat lunch very often." He blushed. "Not that I've been watching you of course, that would be weird!"

"You can watch me all you want, Misaki," rumbled Usagi-san – and damn it, the cutesy nickname did suit him in some unexplainable fashion. "Thank you, I would really appreciate that."

The blush remained, somehow cloying up Misaki's throat so he couldn't speak and insist that he wasn't watching the older student at all, he really wasn't weird or anything, and so he didn't manage to respond before the bell went, and Hiroki and Nowaki had to stop their bickering and part ways. Kamijou stormed off, dragging Usagi-san with him; but not before Usagi-san caught hold of one of Misaki's hands and gave it a brief squeeze.

Misaki waved goodbye in a slightly startled fashion as Kamijou fully towed his classmate away, and found himself wishing that the brief amount of contact had been much longer. Usagi-san's hand had been cold and strong, his slim fingers holding a surprising amount of grip.

It took a lot of effort to shake himself out of his reverie, so he could put his book away and run for class. He really had enough problems in his life without Usami Akihiko adding to the mix.

* * *

It had been a generally flustering day for Misaki so far – what with having to deal with a tearful and then irritable Shinobu in class, and then finding himself being actively sought out by Usami Akihiko at lunchtime. The older student hadn't sat with them, but he had leant down over Misaki just as he was about to take a mouthful of his bento and had actually stolen the food off the fork. Misaki had used that fork only moments before, and he had almost been able to sense Shinobu's glee at his embarrassment.

"Thanks for the food," the upperclassman had said as he had sauntered off just as suddenly ashe had arrived.

Bubbling over with embarrassment, Misaki had leapt up and half shrieked at the other young man, "Usagi-san! You idiot!" But the complaints had died on his lips when Akihiko had partially swivelled around in his steps and given Misaki the brightest smile he had ever seen, a properly happy laugh spilling from his lips before he continued on his way. Misaki had just tucked himself back down into his seat and started eating again, desperately trying to quell the crimson blush on his cheeks.

All through the rest of the day, Shinobu had badgered him about the incident, trying to goad him into some sort of confession and distracting Misaki from asking awkward questions about what had happened to him in the library. Misaki had staunchly resisted outwardly, but inside his brain was ticking over quickly. Well, if he was brutally, brutally honest, Usami Akihiko was all kinds of attractive… Of course the boy was also a complete asshole, but he had his moments of kindness too… He had walked Misaki home quite a few times, even though his house was in the total opposite direction, and he always praised his student whenever Misaki got something right. And he was intensely nice to Takahiro, when people tended to take advantage of Misaki's brother's naivety.

By the end of the day, Misaki had talked himself in and out of having a crush on Usagi-san at least four times, but he had finally settled on a reluctant acceptance. Not that that meant he would admit that to Shinobu of course.

And now, after everyone had finished their after school clubs and gone home, here he was, sitting in an otherwise empty classroom and hoping he hadn't gotten the wrong place. Thankfully, moments after he began to consider going to stand in the corridor, the door opened and Shinobu clattered in. He was still in his baseball getup and looked windswept and rosy from exertion.

"You couldn't look any more like a newbie," he said, dropping his bags to the floor with a clatter and sinking into a seat beside Misaki. "Arriving early…" He shook his head in mock disappointment. "Didn't you have your cooking club?"

Misaki flushed and said, "I did, but I asked to leave early." His blush deepened as Shinobu started to laugh at him. "I wasn't going to be the idiot who turns up last and gets in extra trouble for it! I don't know how this works!"

Before Shinobu could continue to mock him, thankfully the door opened again, and a small stream of people entered. There was Nowaki in his baseball uniform, and the ever scowling Kamijou still wearing his kendo getup, followed by Miyagi and… Oh god… Misaki cowered down into his seat and turned his attention to the window in the hope that the last entry wouldn't spot him. Usagi-san was still in his school uniform, the one that had clearly been tailored to fit him better because no one could look that good otherwise, holding a well-thumbed library book and reading a passage intently as Miyagi compared it to another. He was so focused on the book that Kamijou had to pull out a chair for him to sit on, and didn't even glance up when the door slammed back against the wall and a teacher marched in.

Beside him, Misaki heard Shinobu grumble, "Oh, not him…" as the teacher stopped at the head of the class and surveyed them all with a grim expression. It was Igarashi -sensei, a PE teacher who was well known for dancing on the edge between harsh and downright cruel. It was rumoured that he had once suspended a pupil by the ankles with the gym ropes for misbehaving in class, and you could hear the man screaming at his chosen victims from several classrooms away. It didn't help that he was a big man, who had clearly once been trim and fit but was now running to fat, and knew how to throw his weight around.

"Usami!" he roared, pointing a stubby finger at the boy in question. "Get your nose out of that book and pay attention!"

As if stirred from a dream, Usagi-san closed the book slowly and set it down. Igarashi-sensei glowered at him for a second but then appeared to decide that it wasn't worth another bollocking and moved on.

"Right, you lot, you've all got a week's worth of detention, right?"

There was a wave of muttered, unhappy agreement.

"Yeah, bitch about it all you want, it's still happening. Your punishment is to help with the preparations for the Halloween festival next Wednesday." A smile crossed his face. "And it won't be the fun jobs either, lads. Today, we'll be starting with cleaning the place up, and after that we'll be moving on to construction work. Maybe some manual labour will knock some sense into you." He slapped a piece of paper down on Misaki's desk. "Sign in on the register and then I'll assign you places to go."

Misaki scribbled his name down, gritting his teeth when Igarashi-sensei scoffed and repeated, "Misaki? Nice name, kid."

Igarashi-sensei followed the register around the room, giving short nods to Shinobu, Nowaki and Hiroki, steering well clear of Miyagi and then locking onto Usagi-san.

"Well, well, our resident prince finds himself in detention once again. How many times this term is it, Usami?"

"I try not to keep a count," said Usagi-san coldly.

"No, that would be beneath you, wouldn't it," sneered the teacher, snatching the register away. "You'll be outside, clearing up the leaves and rubbish from the grounds. Take…" He glanced around the room until his eyes lit on Misaki. "Take Takahashi with you. The brooms and rubbish bags are in the cleaner's store, and if I spot either of you slacking then there will be hell to pay! Go on."

Avoiding Shinobu's slightly manic leer, Misaki grabbed his coat and slouched after Usagi-san into the hallway. There they stood in silence for a few moments, until Usagi-san sighed and said, "So, do you know where the cleaner's store is?"

"Um, first floor, next to the nurses' station," said Misaki, having to take a few skipping steps to keep up with the older boy's long strides when he set off for the stairs. "You didn't know?"

"Never had to use it." Akihiko gave him a brief over the shoulder look. "Have you had to?"

Misaki laughed nervously and said, "Once. We were making doughnuts in cooking club, and I dropped a big bottle of oil for the deep frying, and it went everywhere."

"Hmm."

* * *

As it turned out, Usami Akihiko had a talent for creating the sort of silences that Misaki just couldn't resist filling with anxious chatter. He talked as they fetched the brushes and bags, as they walked through the school and as they went outside to the concrete playground that the school used for all its events. Wind was whistling sharply in the distant trees now, gaining speed as it rolled across the flat of the sports pitches before it rocked up against the back of the building where they stood.

Misaki shuddered and did up all the buttons on his coat, struggling to hold the broom and rubbish bags at the same time, surveying the area glumly. There wasn't much rubbish, but there were a lot of leaves – it was autumn after all – and there were still a great many just waiting to fall off the trees.

"We might as well get started," said Usagi-san, solemnly. "Since we're never going to get this done."

They decided to pick up the rubbish first, scurrying around the playground to catch wrappers and paper that the wind kept just inches from their fingertips. Usagi-san spent ten minutes trying to scoop up an abandoned newspaper, and only succeeded in the end by physically throwing himself at it in a full body tackle.

When they finally managed to get the last of the rubbish into a bag, they dropped it by the side of the building and took a minute to huddle in the shelter out of the wind. Before this could have any sort of restorative effect, though, Igarashi-sensei stuck his head out of a window on the second floor and howled at them to stop slacking. Grudgingly they grabbed a brush each and set out on opposite sides of the playground to attempt to clear up the leaves.

* * *

Akihiko had never liked autumn; he felt it was a season that sought to actively conspire against him. The winds mussed his fine hair into tangles, the cold had that piercing quality that bit through all layers of clothes as it sought to remind you what it felt like, the weather changed at the drop of a hat, never into anything pleasant. And this was the season he was named for!

Across the playground, Misaki was making manful headway on corralling leaves into rubbish bags, while Akihiko was frankly struggling to use the bloody brush. He always admired people that knew how to do these sorts of things, mostly because he was so woeful at it, and Takahashi Misaki was proving himself to be very admirable indeed.

The wound that Takahiro had left behind was still very fresh and still throbbed at every new sighting of the boy and his girlfriend, but if his life so far had taught Akihiko anything, it was how to be resilient. Sometimes his ability to move on scared even him – he'd caught himself daydreaming about Misaki at least twice today, as well as on a couple previous days. His affection for Takahiro had been long standing and intense, and he still wasn't free of it entirely, but this new attraction seemed even stronger in its infancy. There was just something about Takahashi Misaki that made him happy.

"Usagi-san!" The new nickname called him out of his reverie, and Akihiko looked about to find Misaki scowling at him. "It's not fair if you stand about daydreaming while I do the work!"

"Sorry, sorry." Akihiko glowered at his brush again and then laid about a small pile of leaves with it. Perhaps technique could be replaced with enthusiasm?

As it turned out, this wasn't entirely correct, but through one method or another the pair of them managed to clear the whole playground within a couple hours. They piled the full bags by one of the walls, and, as Misaki just tied the last one shut, Igarashi-sensei appeared. He stormed over to them and stopped to survey their handiwork grimly.

"Not bad. You'll have to do it again before the festival though, of course."

"Of course," said Akihiko sourly. Already, new leaves were clustering at the edge of the sports pitches, ready to make a attack on the concrete as soon as they left.

"You've missed something though." The teacher tutted, and Akihiko wondered just exactly how much trouble he'd get in for punching the man in the throat. "You should get that, Usami."

Another gust of wind caught the offending object, and whirled it high in the air. Akihiko's heart sank slightly as he realised it was that bloody newspaper, the one that had led him on that wild goose chase not long before. The damned thing had escaped from the rubbish bag and now looked set to lead him on another embarrassing chase.

Thankfully, though, the wind died sharply as Akihiko approached it, enabling him to snatch it up just before another gust struck. Igarashi -sensei had the gall to actually look disappointed, and Akihiko decided to rub it in a bit by correctly folding the paper out and scanning the first page as he strolled back.

It was a rather sensationalist headline, he thought, compared to those he'd seen on his father's much drier papers. 'TOKYO RIVER MURDERER STRIKES AGAIN' it screamed, accompanied by a bright picture of police tape blocking off a small bridge.

"Take your time, Usami, please do!" roared Igarashi -sensei, fists clenching in annoyance and face starting to turn a remarkable shade of fuchsia.

Akihiko tucked the paper under his arm and strolled back a little faster, in case Igarashi-sensei exploded with anger. Never mind this river murderer, Akihiko had other problems.

* * *

**So that was a loooong chapter.** I don't think the others will be so long, but I wanted to get everyone into their school life settings.

In case anyone's confused as to ages and things:

Grade 12 – 17-18 year olds – Miyagi, Isaka, Asahina, Haruhiko.

Grade 11 – 16-17 year olds – Akihiko, Hiroki, Nowaki, Minami, Aikawa.

Grade 10 – 15-16 year olds – Misaki, Shinobu, Todo, Sumi.

Obviously I've had to jerk ages around a lot to make it work, but I hope no one cares about that. Anyway, this should be updated everyday until Halloween, because this is horror story country! I'm going to creep you out as much as possible!


	2. Eight Days

**Tuesday 23****rd**** October**

* * *

The next day they found themselves in one of the technology rooms, eyeing great heaps of planks and wood that have been piled up against a wall. Igarashi-sensei had them lined up and was marching back and forth in front of them like a general in front of his troops.

At this point they were a very sorry state of troops anyway, Miyagi thought. He was aching from the amount of time he'd had to spent on his hands and knees scrubbing the floors yesterday, and, since he had been paired with Shinobu for the task, he wasn't feeling much more content emotionally. The boy had a talent for making him feel like an utter cock just by being silent, and he'd found himself trying to break the icy silence with inane chitchat. It hadn't helped at all, and in the end, Shinobu had reminded him that they were meant to be together, thrown his mop to the floor and stormed off. As it was, Miyagi counted himself lucky that he hadn't had the bucket of dirty water poured over his head instead.

Down the line, Shinobu continued to look surly, shooting Miyagi a glare when their gazes met. Beside him, Misaki was sniffling quietly into a hanky, having experienced one of the more impressive sneezing fits Miyagi had ever witnessed just before coming into the room. Hiroki and Nowaki seemed to have come to some sort of entente cordiale during their banishment to tidy the gym hall, and Miyagi was sure there was some sort of suspicious faint bruising on the smaller boy's throat, just above the cover of his blazer's high collar. Meanwhile Usami Akihiko looked as though he was about to collapse where he stood, weaving slightly on his feet, grey-skinned and with heavy black circles under his eyes. This was not a particularly new sight – Akihiko would show up looking even worse on occasion, but Miyagi had never been able to figure out why.

"Right!" said Igarashi-sensei finally. Miyagi swung his gaze back to front and centre, in case his obvious curiosity got him in any trouble. He was fairly sure he was home and dry though, because Akihiko's presence, looking like death warmed over or not, was a sure fire distractor for the PE teacher.

"Today, you're doing something a bit more complicated. I do hope you can cope." He paused in his marching at Akihiko's end of the end and gave the boy a sceptical once over. Miyagi turned his head enough to be able to see what was going on, and was impressed when the blond managed to straighten his back and steady his weaving enough to look disdainfully into Igarashi-sensei's rapidly reddening face. If there was something Usami Akihiko could do well, it was looking disdainfully at people. He even rivalled Hiroki at it. "Up too late last night, Usami?"

"Inspiration struck. I'm not sure I could explain it to you."

Miyagi winced as the teacher's face made that leap from fuchsia with annoyance to red with rage. That was the other thing about Usami: sometimes Miyagi was sure he had a death wish.

It took the man a long time before he got his temper under control enough that he could speak. "Watch your mouth, blondie," he spat, prodding Akihiko in the chest with a fat finger. "This is your last chance, remember? I personally think that this school would be much better off without you. I might choose to make it my mission to get rid of you, and no amount of daddy's money would keep you here." He prodded the boy again. "Got it?"

"Yes, sir," growled Akihiko, and the tension in the room was so intense for a few seconds that Miyagi was sure one of them was going to snap, haul off and punch the other one in the face. He could just see Igarashi-sensei's forearms starting to bunch with muscle tension, and, while the man was long past his prime, he still had arms like small tree trunks and fists like hams. Desperately he sought for something that would break the tension, but thankfully, Misaki got in there first, with an exceptionally loud, and only slightly fake sounding sneeze. Everyone jumped slightly, as the little brunette wiped his nose again and apologised in a muffled voice, and Igarashi-sensei stepped back slowly and began to prowl the line again.

"Should have brought a thicker coat with you, Takahashi," he sneered as he passed the still sniffling Misaki, who gave him a brief scowl front above his tissues. "And you better not pass it on to me."

Before he could reply, Misaki let out another sneeze and was reduced to muttering something incomprehensible into his tissues.

Chuckling now, Igarashi-sensei did one last patrol and stopped finally. "Right, today you've got to cut the wood for the event stalls. The clubs have all left pretty firm instructions about what they all want, so make sure you get it right. Miyagi!"

Almost instinctively, because he didn't want to be nearly punched in the face either, Miyagi stood to a facsimile of attention and tried to look cheerful and helpful.

"You know how to operate these machines?" He waved about the room, and Miyagi turned slightly to survey the array of blades and drills with a small amount of trepidation.

"I know how to work the saws," he said vaguely. He had taken technology and woodworking classes briefly – on his father's insistence that every boy should have a practical talent –and had hated every second of it. He could operate them well enough to avoid cutting his own fingers off, but he really didn't want to left in chance of this motley crew, trying to prevent them from doing the same.

"Good, they're all you need for now. Anyone else know what to do in here?"

Nowaki stuck his arm up. "I worked on a building site last summer. I'm pretty good with this."

Igarashi-sensei almost beamed at him. "Good job, Kusama. You and Miyagi are in charge. The rest of you listen to them." He hauled up a length of wood and pushed it into Nowaki's arms. "Get to work, no chat except instructions and anyone who chops off any part of themselves should consider how much I like them before coming to me for help." He shot a dirty look at Akihiko again and stomped off to the teacher's desk, propping his feet on the desk and unfolding a newspaper.

The little group milled around for a few seconds in confusion, until Shinobu spotted a pile of papers on a work bench and began to divide them all out into which club they belonged to. Miyagi and Nowaki had a quick look through them – with dread Miyagi noted the design his own literature club had decided on and wished he'd known before that he was the sap that was going to building the haunted house they'd all agreed on – and gave each other despairing looks.

"We'll all start off measuring, and then you and me can start cutting things," said Nowaki. "I think that's the best way; measuring's the bit that needs to be checked a couple times, so it would be better to have more people doing that."

Everyone spread across different benches, and set to work.

* * *

Nowaki had enjoyed working on the building site – it had been good experience and good money – and he had enjoyed the work he'd had to do there. Measuring things correctly seemed like a peaceful, thoughtless task, but there was just enough work in it – focusing on getting it right – that you still had something to concentrate on.

He found himself working with Shinobu, who proved to be a quick study at what they were trying to do and quickly set off to measure for a separate stall. Across the workbench, Hiro-san was attempting to teach Akihiko, but didn't seem to have Nowaki's luck in quick students. The third time the blond student managed to mark the length on his own arm rather than the plank itself, Hiroki clearly gave up and relegated the other boy to holding the planks steady instead. Miyagi and Misaki were working well together on another table, and all of them became quickly absorbed in what they were doing, working silently as the clock ticked on.

"Who's making that racket?" snapped Igarashi-sensei suddenly. Nowaki had previously been operating under the idea that he was asleep, and, so startled, scribbled a line in the wrong place on his plank, dropping his pen in the process. Hiro-san ducked under his side of the table to fetch it and neatly banged his head on the way down, cursing under his breath. "When I find out which one of you is making that noise, there will be trouble!"

"It's the taps," said Shinobu, nodding his head towards the offending items. Nowaki hadn't realised it until that moment, but the sinks were indeed making an odd clinking noise, and now he looked at them, the metal faucets were actually vibrating slightly. Igarashi-sensei grunted, clearly dissatisfied by this explanation, and picked up his paper again.

"Where's that bloody pen gone?" muttered Hiroki, appearing from the side of the table and looking baffled. "It was just there."

"I have another one, Hiro-san," said Nowaki, giving his tutor a hand up. "And I think I should start cutting these now." He smiled at Shinobu, who nodded and turned his attention back to his own measuring again, eyes flickering up every so often to follow Miyagi's movements.

If Igarashi-sensei had been expecting to have a peaceful afternoon, he would been sorely mistaken, Nowaki thought, as he snapped his safety goggles on and flickered the switch to start the band-saw. It made an unhappy screeching noise and then thrummed up to its normal speed, blade moving too fast to see properly. There was another rumbling thrum as Miyagi started the other saw, and then came the chewing, shrieking sound as the blade bit into wood. He worked quickly, piling the finished pieces in a group so he would know what they were for. Soon Hiro-san brought him work and cleared away the already cut planks and struts to another table. At least that way Nowaki knew that someone sensible was taking care of that – Hiro-san would know to mark out for which stall each group was for, so there would be no problems come trying to fix them together.

He was half way through cutting a long strut in half when the lights first flickered. He froze in place, unwilling to make a sudden movement and risk cutting his hands off in the dark, but the lights stabilised again and he moved swiftly to finish that piece. The room already sank of sawdust and the air was thick with flying particles, making Misaki sneeze twice as often as usual.

"Takahashi, would you stop that," growled the teacher, in an incredibly unhelpful way. Nowaki wasn't one for disliking teachers, but Igarashi-sensei was really starting to push the boundary – picking on Usami Akihiko was one thing, but Takahashi Misaki was another story altogether. A quick glance around the room showed a few people clearly felt the same – Shinobu was wearing one of his dark scowls, and Akihiko looked exceptionally testy.

"Sorry, sir," muttered Misaki, in between sneezes. "It's the dust."

"Just man up and get on with it," growled Igarashi-sensei, taking his feet off the desk and leaning forward. Above them the lights flickered again, flashing on and off repeatedly for a long moment. "Otherwise you'll be staying later to clean up this mess."

"He just needs some clean air," snapped Akihiko. Nowaki immediately turned back to his saw, catching Hiro-san's frustrated look on the way past. "You can't shout at him for that."

"I can bloody well shout at anyone I want for any bloody reason I want, Usami!"

Nowaki set the next plank down as the lights flashed again. He couldn't trust himself not to jump with all of these distractions, now that Igarashi-sensei was revving himself up to have another verbal fight with Akihiko.

"Now you listen to me-"

The lights died completely. Silence fell for a second, and then doors slammed outside. Footstep like sounds echoed down the hall, and Nowaki's hands clenched tight into fists of their own accord, hairs rising on the back of his neck.

Igarashi-sensei was the first to speak. "What the hell?" Nowaki could make out his hulking shape in the gloom as he tripped over to the light switch and clunked it back and forth a few times. On the last attempt, the light flickered and faded back into twitchy, yellow life. The quality of the light made everyone look sallow and unwell, and Nowaki was about to suggest he get up on a chair and have a look at the bulb, for all the good he could do with a fluorescent light, when another door slammed outside.

"Shouldn't be anyone in here after hours," snapped Igarashi-sensei, poking his head out of the door and looking back and forth down the corridor. Another, much more distant, door slammed and those strange footsteps started again. "Damn it. You lot keep working. I'm going to rip someone else a new one."

They gave him a couple minutes before an air of relaxation spread around the room. Miyagi turned his saw off, Nowaki following suit and going to help Hiro-san move the freshly cut piles around the room.

"Feeling any better now?" he asked Misaki, as he passed. The boy was snuffling into a hanky that Akihiko had provided – silk and with something that looked suspiciously like a name embroidered on the corner.

"Yeah, it's nothing really." The brunet gave him a brave little smile and then sneezed again. "Usagi-san, I'm going to ruin this handkerchief! Take it back!"

The blond boy was eyeing the sinks suspiciously, and paused only to roll his eyes at Misaki's bleated statement. "Keep it, I said. I would get you a drink of water as well, but I'm sure you don't want one from those taps. When our sinks make that noise they tend to flow red with rust for a few hours afterwards…"

"Urgh!" Misaki made a face. "No I'm definitely fine."

Nowaki left them to take care of each other, and, throwing a glance over to where Miyagi and Shinobu seemed to involved in an intense conversation, he paced over to where Hiroki was now flicking through the remaining designs.

* * *

Hiroki was trying to figure out how long it was going to take them to do the rest of the measuring and cutting when he sensed a certain hulking idiot lurking up behind him. He turned to find Nowaki wearing that particularly annoying grin that made Hiroki's heart beat twice as fast as normal, and he scowled deeply at the younger boy.

"What do you want?" he snapped. "You should still be sawing away, or we'll never get this done."

"Better not to overwork the saw," said Nowaki, all innocence and good nature. "I never got to ask, did you get home safely last night, Hiro-san?"

"Of course I did, idiot, otherwise I wouldn't be here now, would I?" He realised one of his hands had drifted up and was rubbing at his throat absently, yanking it down and pretending to brush down the front of his shirt to cover the move. Unfortunately it appeared that Nowaki had noticed the move and the original intent, and now leant in that bit closer.

"You've got a bruise there, Hiro-san," he said, his voice soft and breath tickling Hiroki's ear. Immediately the older boy's mouth went dry and his mind plunged into all sorts of dirty places. "I didn't hurt you yesterday, did I?"

"Of course not," he stuttered, stepping back and hoping that no one would notice the fact his face was currently blushing crimson. "I'm not made out of glass."

"Of course, Hiro-san!" Nowaki said, smiling in that infuriating way of his. Hiroki couldn't take his eyes off him, and opened and closed his mouth a few times in desperation to find something to snap in reply.

A noise caught his attention, and Hiroki's attention snapped elsewhere, dragged by some ancient part of his brain alert to possible danger.

There was something in the corridor.

"Wait!" Hiroki held up his hand. The various conversations stopped abruptly, and were replaced with that tense silence of people listening intently, but the noise seemed to have gone. Nowaki was clearly about to speak again, but Hiroki clapped his hand over the taller boy's mouth and shushed everyone again.

And there it was. Something in the corridor was grumbling, wheezing, in a low tone. The noise crept up through the soles of Hiroki's feet and scored straight up his spine to that primal centre of his brain. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck began to rise, and he met Nowaki's gaze long enough to see that the other boy was thoroughly creeped out as well.

Carefully, Akihiko stood and crept over to the open door, craning his head gingerly to look up and down the corridor. He didn't seem to find anything, but Hiroki noted the way he still backed away from his task, as if he didn't want to turn his back on what was outside.

The grumbling stopped again, but this time was replaced by footsteps; footsteps that Hiroki realised weren't actually footsteps, but dripping noises, heavy and thick. Akihiko chivvied Misaki off his chair and around to the other side of the work bench, and Hiroki nearly screamed when Nowaki grabbed his hand and towed him in a similar direction.

"This is silly," he said, clearing his throat so he didn't sound so anxious, "It's just a bit dark and echo-ey in here, and you people all go to pie-"

With a tremendous bang, the doors exploded inwards, slamming hard against the wall. Hiroki found himself being tumbled to the ground as Nowaki hauled him out of the way, and a wash of cold, damp air followed. Things creaked and groaned and something high above them shattered in rain of plastic, just as the light died again.

As brave as Hiroki had been talking moments beforehand, he was still intensely grateful for Nowaki's heavy warmth partially lying on his back. The creaking and groaning stopped abruptly and the dripping noise returned, accompanied by a low snuffling. Even with his vision obscured by the dark, Hiroki could tell something was moving out there, padding around the room in a haphazard manner. Nowaki tensed almost painfully when it began to approach, but then whatever it was seemed to stop and, just like that, was gone.

No one seemed keen to move, but Hiroki eventually made the first move, shouldering Nowaki off him and getting up. He had been expecting a warzone, with splinters from the door embedded in everything and things spread over the floor, but the door was intact, if fully open, and only a few sheets of paper had floated their way onto the floor. One of the fluorescent light coverings, however, was in shards, and one of the long bulbs was detached from its connectors.

"Is everyone all right?" asked Nowaki, his voice mostly stable. One of his hands was still tightly clasped with Hiroki's, and the older boy decided that right now he wasn't going to complain. Even as other forms appeared from behind desks and workbenches, he kept his tight grip up.

Akihiko and Misaki had been closest to the exploded light, and Akihiko's blond hair was currently full of sparkling plastic shards, which Misaki had to stand on his tiptoes to brush out. On the opposite side of the room, Miyagi was holding a trembling Shinobu, both one arm cast protectively around the boy's waist.

"What the fuck was that?" asked Miyagi, voice thick.

"Something I don't want to experience again," said Hiroki fervently. He really wished the door was closed. There was something about the darkness in the corridor that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise up again. "I'm going to shut that door, I think." Carefully, he freed himself from Nowaki's grip and tiptoed across the floor, taking a deep breath before rushing the door and trying to slam it shut.

It rebounded off something sharply, and Hiroki just caught the shriek before it slipped out of his mouth.

"Hell, Kamijou, what are you trying to do? Chop off my foot?" Never, Hiroki suspected, had anybody been so glad to realise it was Igarashi-sensei. "What are you lot standing around for?" The teacher looked about and then his eyes tracked upwards as he spotted the broken light.

"Um, the light exploded," said Nowaki, all innocence and honesty. "And all the doors were slamming."

"Draughts," said Igarashi-sensei dismissively, clambering up onto a workbench, which creaked alarmingly, to inspect the light fixture. "Huh, shoddy wiring probably. Everyone can still see in this light right?"

There was a trail of unenthusiastic yeses through the room.

"Good. Back to work."

* * *

In the end, Akihiko had been the one chosen to stay behind and tidy up. Frankly he hadn't seen anything else happening, since he had irked Igarashi-sensei multiple time that afternoon. Really, he considered himself lucky not to have been punched so far.

The events of earlier had left the rest of the detention session with an unpleasant air, everyone was clearly waiting for something else to go wrong. But it had all gone without a hitch, and while Igarashi-sensei locked up the rest of the school, Akihiko was hard at work with a dustpan and brush, scooping up bits of sawdust and light cover from the technology room floor.

Hiroki was waiting for him, impatiently as always, just inside the door and Akihiko was inexplicably glad of his presence. He was sure that the doors had slammed back because of draughts, and the light fixtures certainly could have exploded due to shoddy wiring. But something in the back of his mind, in the certain part of his brain that had often kept him alive when his mother had been at her most psychotic, warned him that something wasn't right. Something had been there, sniffling and dripping about the room, _searching_ for something.

"Are you going to take all day doing that?" growled Hiroki. "I want to go home. I'm hungry!"

Akihiko extricated himself from until the last desk carefully, and emptied the dustpan into the bin. "There. Is that acceptable?"

Hiroki ran a jaundiced eye over the room and then nodded. "That's fine. Come on, it's going to be completely dark outside."

Akihiko collected his bag and followed Hiroki out, their strides matching quickly out of practise. "We've walked home in the dark before."

"But not after whatever the fuck that was," snapped Hiroki, bundling a scarf from his bag and throwing it around his neck as they stepped out into the night. True to the smaller boy's prediction, it was pitch black, the street lamps around the school grounds and driveway failing to break more than a couple metres through the dark.

"Draughts and shoddy wiring," said Akihiko thoughtfully. No, he was certain now that he didn't believe that.

"Yeah. I mean they're all normal things, but they just all added together today and we all freaked each other out." Hiroki stretched and yawned. "Just a bit creepy."

"But didn't you hear that thing?" said Akihiko, suddenly worried that perhaps he'd hallucinated the worst part. "It was searching for us, sniffing and padding around."

"I…" Hiroki swallowed and in the faint light of a street lamp, Akihiko realised his friend had gone very pale. "Just people getting freaked out," he repeated faintly. "God, Akihiko, don't make it worse than it has to be!"

Sometimes it was fun to push Hiroki, just to see what level of response you could get from him, but tonight Akihiko decided it would be a lot more fun to push about something that didn't scare the both of them.

"So you and Nowaki then," he said, doing his best to cast all thoughts of earlier from his mind. "What's going on there then?"

"What?! Nothing!" Hiroki screeched and blushed a shade of crimson Akihiko hadn't seen him turn in a long time. "What are you talking about, idiot?!"

Thus bickering they left the school grounds behind them, and head for home.

Something stayed behind, and watched.

* * *

**Oooooh-errrr**. What's all this then?! Nothing fun certainly!


	3. Seven Days

**Wednesday 24****th**** October**

* * *

There was an hour's worth of the cutting to still be done, so Miyagi and Nowaki were seconded off to do that while the rest of them paired off to make sense of the cuts of wood and start to paint things. Soon the room was not only filled with sawdust but also the stinging scent of paint fumes, and Shinobu was starting to feel incredibly woozy.

People began to gather designs and piles of wood together, slotting things together to try and organise them into the right shape for painting. Shinobu had chosen the literature club's design to work on and had then spent ten minutes trying to decide which pieces were which, before Miyagi had finished his cutting and came across to help.

Despite all his complaints about not thinking it was a good idea, the older boy wasn't reacting horrifically badly to Shinobu's insistence they should be together. There had been that little hiccup when Shinobu had first confessed, but then they had been stuck together cleaning floors on the first detention and Miyagi _had_ protected him the day before when the doors had blown in. And now they were sitting so close together Shinobu could feel the warmth rising off his intended's form and a blush rushed up to his cheeks. He could just hear Miyagi's quiet chuckle and a knee carefully nudged his.

"You get what you want and you go all shy?" the older boy whispered, and Shinobu leant in closer to focus on painting a strut pink, nose nearly touching the wood. "Have it your way then."

Shinobu chose to pretend he hadn't heard that, but pressed his knee closer to Miyagi's so he could enjoy the contact

It was another ten minutes before Shinobu realised the buzzing had started again, the noise emanating from the sinks; the buzzing hitting a peculiar frequency that scraped against the young man's teeth in the most aggravating fashion. For a moment he was tempted to go over and turn the taps on, to see if he could make that damn noise stop, but then he decided he neither wanted to brave Igarashi-sensei's temper nor what might come out of the taps.

At least Misaki was not sneezing anymore, because Igarashi-sensei seemed to be extra bad tempered today, and had spent the first half an hour standing beside the teacher's desk with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Now, he couldn't seem to keep still anymore, traipsing back and forth across the room, muttering and snarling to himself. All of the boys tucked themselves down and focused very intently on their painting, trying to not draw any attention to themselves. By dint of being fair haired, Shinobu felt a bit more obvious than everyone else, although thankfully Akihiko's presence was a handy distraction. And sure enough, Akihiko paused for a second too long to wipe paint off his hand and Igarashi-sensei struck.

"You boy! Usami! Can't you focus on anything for more than one second?" The teacher nearly wrenched one of the student's arms off, dragging him off his stool. "You listen to me, blondie – I am sick of you and your slacking! You think you can get away with anything, don't you?"

"No?" said Akihiko, confusion evident in his voice.

"You do though, don't you? Think you can just sail through life and your money will just make everything better?" He gave Akihiko a sharp push in the shoulders, and Shinobu shifted carefully so he could see around Miyagi and watch what was happening. "Well here's a hint, blondie – that money isn't yours yet. It's all your father's, and when he finally realises that he's wasting his time on you, then you will be _fucked_." He punctuated the last few words with series of jabs into the centre of Akihiko's chest, apparently not noticing the look of utter aggravation that was appearing on his victim's aristocratic face. No one could make irritation look as classy as a Usami could.

"If you have-" he started, and then froze, icy blue gaze skittering to the doorway and focusing there abruptly. Igarashi-sensei watched him expectantly for a minute before he clearly acquired the same urge as Akihiko had and he looked to the door as well. Seconds later the noise drifted to Shinobu's ears, and one of his hands grabbed reflexively at Miyagi's forearm. The dripping footsteps were back, approaching the room. Somewhere in the school a door creaked and then slammed, and something grumbled deeply.

"Sit down, Usami," said Igarashi-sensei, not bothering to look back at his previous target and stalking over to the door instead. He flung both the doors open and stood in the middle, feet braced apart and arms crossed. After a few seconds, Akihiko returned to his seat, not taking his eyes away from the door either and picked up his paintbrush again, even though he didn't seem intent on using it.

The dripping noises slowly increased in speed and volume, until Shinobu was certain whatever was causing them should be right outside the door. But there was nothing out there; nothing that he could see anyway. He didn't seem to be the only one that felt that way either, everyone else was sitting up straight and watching the door with grim faces. Igarashi-sensei was the most intent of them all.

"I see you out there, boy!" The teacher roared suddenly, starting forward suddenly, breaking the tension. "You're meant to be in detention, boy! Get back here!" With that, he set off running, shouting and hollering the whole way down the corridor until he disappeared. The group in detention all stared after him dumbly.

"That was strange," said Shinobu finally, setting his paintbrush back into the pot and wiping spots of paint from his forearms. He was pleased that his voice didn't shake more than was absolutely necessary.

"More than strange," said Akihiko in a distant tone of voice.

Hiroki shrugged carelessly. "It's nothing. He's just spotted whatever person was running around before."

"Only," said Akihiko, rattling his paintbrush on the table, "He said that person should be in detention but… We're all here."

The realisation spread around the room uncomfortably.

"It's fine," said Hiroki, but now he seemed considerably less sure. "He'll be back, raging in a few minutes. You know what he's like."

They started the painting again, but this time there were frequent breaks when individuals would stare out of the door or freeze in place and listen keenly. None of the strange sounds had returned, none of the buzzing from the taps or the flickering lights, but everyone was so intensely on edge that Shinobu decided he simply couldn't take it anymore, threw down his brush and declared he was going to find Igarashi-sensei.

"Are you _mad_?" asked Misaki, his expression indicating that there was no need to question it at all.

"He's been gone half an hour. We're going home soon, and I don't want to have to wait about for him to come back."

"So you want to go outside and chase him down? You know he's just going to be mad at us!"

"Look, if we all go, then it's less of a problem, right?" Shinobu grabbed his coat and stepped closer to the door. He was going to go out there whether they came with him or not, but he'd really prefer it if they did. "Come on."

Miyagi dropped his paintbrush first, followed swiftly by Nowaki and Hiroki. Misaki looked torn, and Akihiko looked less than happy about going out to hunt for the teacher who hated him the most, but the pair of them threw on their blazers and their coats too, joining the group at the door.

"We'll go to the front first and then double back and check outside at the rear," said Miyagi. "He won't have gone upstairs, we'd have heard him if he had."

Nowaki and Hiroki seemed to assume point duty without being told too, nipping ahead to check in classrooms and down side corridors, while Misaki and Akihiko, the least enthusiastic pair, strolled in the middle and Shinobu and Miyagi took the rear. They reached the front of the school without mishap or any sign of Igarashi-sensei – spotting his darkened and lonely looking car in the staff car park while they were there - , returned to their starting point quickly and started the next sweep.

Maybe it was the tension playing on his nerves, but it was now that Shinobu began to get scared. Every step that brought them closer to the back of the school made his heart start to beat faster, and before long he found himself walking so close to Miyagi that their legs were almost tangling with each step.

"God's sake." The older boy muttered, catching Shinobu's hand in one of his big paws and squeezing tightly. "Just hold my hand. You'll be fine."

Shinobu was about to bleat something about not being scared at all, when he realised that Miyagi's voice had held a subtle, but definitely present, tremble and that the squeeze in his fingers was not letting up. Ahead of them, Misaki was fully clinging to Akihiko's arm and even the terrifying Kamijou Hiroki was standing very close indeed to Nowaki.

They were walking towards something highly unpleasant, Shinobu could just tell.

* * *

It had been a long time since something had truly scared Akihiko, and he had forgotten quite how unpleasant it was. Against his side, Misaki was trembling like a leaf, fingers digging into the older student's arm, and Akihiko gingerly pried his arm away so he could interlace their fingers tightly.

"I'll protect you," he said, smiling a little when Misaki scoffed at him and told him not to be soppy. The warm fingers tucked between his own only squeezed tighter though, and he stepped out with more courage, shoulders squared and head held high, ready to face whatever came their way with dignity.

Before them, Hiroki and Nowaki were making swift work of checking all the side corridors and classrooms and quickly they drew to the back doors, which were swinging wildly in the wind.

"Are we…?" asked Nowaki, barely waiting for agreement before he stepped outside, Hiroki close behind him. For a moment, Akihiko was in two minds about going but some strange urge made him step forward and he went obediently, eyes and ears straining.

The wind was truly howling tonight, whipping his hair across his face, and the dark was peculiarly deep and menacing. There was no moon, no stars, not even the distant reflected glow of the city off a cloud layer. For a moment Akihiko wondered if he had gone blind, but he could see the little street lights around the edge of the concrete playground still, their yellow light quickly swallowed by the gloom and there was still a few feet of visibility from the lights inside the school. There was something incredibly hypnotic about the depth of the darkness, and suddenly Akihiko found himself itching to approach it.

"I've changed my mind," warbled Shinobu suddenly, "I want to be back in the classroom."

"You and me both," grumbled Miyagi, in a tone so low the wind nearly obscured him from hearing.

Akihiko found himself nodding in agreement, even as he carefully pulled his hand from Misaki's and trailed out further into the dark, following the urge despite the part of his brain that shouted at him to go back. He passed Nowaki and Hiroki – noting the protective hand the bigger boy had on his best friend's back with detached amusement – and found himself in a dark so intense it took his breath away.

It was like stepping into a fog bank, damp air roiling over him in an oddly contained manner. The wind had all but vanished, although Akihiko could still hear it distantly, and there was a terrible, wet smell arising from about his feet; like damp and rot and putrefaction. He took a shaking breath, shuddering as the smell manifested itself as a thick taste in his mouth, and then, despite all of his best judgement, stepped forward again.

The screams started. Screams and howls of inhuman noise, all of it drenched in pain and terror. The noise scraped across all of Akihiko's nerves at once, kicking his well-used fight or flight centres into high gear instantly. He wanted to run, to grab Misaki and tear back into the school and hide until daybreak, but the dark was so all encompassing he couldn't tell which way was which. The movement of his feet sucked and slurped through something, like he was trying to move through a swamp, stirring up more of that rotten stench and now the thick, metallic scent of blood. Blindly, desperately, he struck out in another direction and walked straight into something.

"Akihiko?" It was Hiroki, and if Akihiko clung to him like a drowning man to a life raft momentarily, he was kind enough not to complain about it. "Come on, we're going back in. We'll find nothing out here on this night."

The light from the inside of the school was now almost oppressively bright and Akihiko squinted against it as he crossed to Misaki's side, willing himself not to turn back and look at the bank of darkness behind him. Distantly, he could hear the screams still, the howling and moaning and crunching noises accompanying them, and now he wasn't sure if they were inside his head or not. Certainly no one else seemed unduly distressed, and Misaki gave him a curious look as they passed the threshold of the back door again.

"Are you all right, Usagi-san?" he asked, carefully catching Akihiko's wrist in a gentle hand. "You look really pale."

He didn't turn around until he heard the doors being shut and the locking mechanism chunking shut. Even then it was difficult to look at the darkness for too long before his heart started to pound and the smell began to creep into his nose again.

The screams cut off abruptly, with one last brutal snap leading into satisfied silence. Akihiko couldn't contain his shudder of revulsion and braced himself against the wall as his stomach briefly rebelled against what he'd heard and he struggled to tamp down the urge to vomit.

"That smell was disgusting," he heard Nowaki say distantly. "It smelt like rotten meat."

"It smelt like _death_," he croaked, raising his head and meeting the other boy's blue eyes. "You smelt it too? Did you _hear_ it?"

"Hear what?" asked Nowaki, but Akihiko only shook his head in reply. No, he wasn't going to mention it now – it was just the dark and the smell of decay, they'd just driven him into some sort of breakdown and he'd hallucinated the screams. That made sense, didn't it? That was a good explanation. No need to worry everyone else with tales of his madness.

No one needed to know what those screams sounded like.

"I think we should go back and tidy up," he said weakly, "And then I'm going to use the phone to call home and get a lift back, because I am not walking anywhere in that night."

"Scared of a little dark now?" teased Hiroki, none of his usual angry amusement in his voice so the mocking ran shallow.

Akihiko just looked out at the night one last time and said, simply, "Yes."

* * *

Nowaki had never ridden in a car as plush as the one he was in right now.

True to his word, Akihiko had gone back to the classroom, tidied everything up, called his home and then sat down near the entrance. He had looked sick ever since they had come back into the school; pale and shaking, pupils drawn to tiny pinpricks in his irises. But he wouldn't tell anyone what he'd found out there in the dark, when he'd disappeared from sight in the gloom, and Nowaki couldn't bring himself to go out there and explore himself. He'd smelt the stink from the gloom, the smell that had indeed reminded him of death as Akihiko had said, and there had been something that had caused the hairs on the back of his neck to rise and stay risen until contact had been made with the outside world.

Shinobu had also called his home and asked for a car to be sent over. Both of them offered lifts to the rest of the group, and Nowaki had ended up going home with Shinobu and Misaki, who lived closer to him. His car had also arrived first, but no one had even left the building until the Usami limo – which appeared to be twice the length of the Takatsuki car – pulled through the gates as well. Whatever had happened out there, whatever had scared them all so badly, had drawn them together into a neat little group and it was hard to leave the safety of that.

So now, Nowaki was resting comfortably in this incredibly plush car and wondering about Igarashi-sensei. Bringing it up didn't seem like a good idea though – Misaki and Shinobu were the youngest members of their group, even if they were only a couple months younger than Nowaki himself, and he didn't want to frighten them anymore. If it had been Hiro-san with him or Akihiko or Miyagi, then Nowaki might have mentioned something.

Well, actually no, not if Akihiko had been there, Nowaki amended. He had seen faces like that before, on children who had arrived at the orphanage from homes filled with violence and anger, and he didn't know how much he could bear to talk about someone's disappearance to someone clearly in such pain of their own. Especially when the person in obvious pain was Usami Akihiko, the school's resident ice king, and a person Nowaki had suspected, in his unkindest moments, knew of no emotions but possibly annoyance and malicious glee.

No, he would have talked to Miyagi and Hiro-san about it, but right now he had to keep it all buckled down. He'd mull on it overnight and then mention it tomorrow. Of course Igarashi-sensei would have returned by then, and there would be no point in measuring it, but that was all right.

The limo pulled up outside the orphanage and Nowaki thanked the driver for the lift before saying goodbye to Shinobu and Misaki. He was at the door when the car pulled away from the curb, and then he stepped into a busy home, bustling with life and light and noise and for a few hours or so, he forgot all about the dark and the terror.

* * *

**Hmmmmm**...

Where has Igarashi-sensei gone? Has Akihiko gone insane? Will they ever finish preparing for the Halloween festival?! Find out tomorrow! And on a few more days after that as well.


	4. Six Days

**Thursday 25****th**** October**

* * *

Akihiko's night had not improved after the limo had brought him home. First of all, his brother had been waiting for him, bizarrely amused that Akihiko had chosen to call for a lift. Temper already frayed and nerves pre-shredded, it had not taken much to rile the younger Usami, and they were only moments from going for each other's throats when Tanaka-san had spotted their posturing and advised them to go to their rooms in no uncertain terms. Akihiko had refused dinner, even with the option of eating it in his room - Tanaka-san tended to pull that bribe out only when Akihiko refused meals repeatedly or seemed especially distressed, so he knew he must have looked terrible - and went to bed early.

The Usami mansion had practically dripped silence at night. Akihiko had lain awake for hours, brain ticking over nervously as the silence crept into his head and opened a space for the memories to come back. The dripping, the grumbling, the screams... At the first thought of them Akihiko had had to cover his mouth to prevent himself from crying out as well. God, those screams. If he had imagined them, what sort of a state was his mind in?

If he hadn't imagined them, what sort of a state was the thing that caused them in?

The thought alone had made his skin crawl, and he had bundled himself up in his duvet and tried to think of anything else. Nothing had worked, and his brain had kept bouncing back to the screams, the final crunch, the rotting smell of death, like some macabre boomerang.

Eventually he could take no more and had ventured out of his bedroom on a search for relief. The floors creaked, but it was a familiar predictable noise and only the darkness of the corridors had frightened him, catching swirling shadows out of the corner of his eyes.

As silently as he could, he had crept to his mother's room and stole inside. She, of course, had not been there - he had known she would be off on a bender somewhere because she and Akihiko's father had gotten into a horrific fight the day before and both of them would be licking their wounds for days yet. The room had been overly sweet with perfume and talc, and Akihiko had struggled to not sneeze as he crept to her en-suite.

He'd had bad days before, days when he hadn't been sure what was real and what was not, and instead of asking for help, he'd cut out the middleman and stolen his mother's medications. She had anti psychotics and antidepressants and anticonvulsants and sleeping pills and a collection of scary looking drugs that she needed to take otherwise she became even more lethal to be around. That night Akihiko had sampled the antipsychotics and a couple of sleeping pills, reading the instructions closely in case he accidentally dosed himself into a coma or something. He'd had previously good results with these combination before and he went back to his bed already feeling slightly better.

Come morning though, he knew they hadn't been the right choice. His brain felt dead in his skull and the world was a blurry mass of grey he simply didn't have the energy to care about. Tanaka had to physically drag him from his bed and stood outside the room as he got dressed to make sure he actually did. Even Haruhiko's breakfast table jibes garnered no spark inside him, and his father actually gave him an almost concerned look.

And the worst part? He could still hear the screams.

* * *

The events of last night had evidently left their mark on everyone, Shinobu reflected at lunch. Already they were all sitting together, huddled at a free table at the back of the canteen instead of sitting with their normal friends. Everyone had pale, sallow faces, with dark circles under their eyes; Misaki looked as though he'd been forgoing sleep for a week already, and Akihiko's face was so blank and grey he might as well not have been conscious at all. Shinobu was acutely away his own visage could hardly be any better, and refrained from mentioning it.

None of them mentioned Igarashi-sensei, until two supervising teachers drifted by – one of them a PE teacher and the other a maths teacher – muttering in quiet words about the man in question. Shinobu might have excused himself to top his water bottle up at the drinks' fountain so he could follow them and listen in.

He returned to the table with news.

"They were saying that Igarashi-sensei didn't clock in today, and he hasn't called off sick."

"Did they mention the car in the car park?" Miyagi asked.

Shinobu shrugged. "They were suspicious enough I was trailing them about the room; I wasn't going to overstay my welcome too much."

"We'll find out in detention," said Misaki, who clearly still had some faith in his education system keeping him informed. "They'll know where he is by then."

In fact it was the same pair of teachers who turned up outside the technology room that afternoon. Neither of them looked happy as they shepherded the boys into the room and told them to sit down.

"Was Igarashi-sensei with you yesterday?" The PE teacher asked, fixing an eye on Nowaki.

"He was," said Nowaki, and Shinobu could almost see the bigger student puzzling through how to explain the man's behaviour without making them all seem nuts. "He left half way through. He didn't explain why."

"Well, he's not back yet," said the maths teacher sourly. She was a woman with a face like she had been sucking lemons all her life, and she kept checking her watch impatiently. "And I've got things to do today. I'm not babysitting for him again."

"Miyagi!" The PE teacher pointed at the student in question. "You know what you're meant to be doing?"

"Well, for today, yes…"

"Here's the sheet of instructions." The man held up a page. "Congratulations, you're in charge from now on."

"What?! But-!" Miyagi started.

The teachers were already leaving. "Think of it as a good way to regain your reputation," advised the maths teacher, extra sourness in her voice. Shinobu cringed as Miyagi's face took on a remarkably stormy nature. "Try not to mess it up."

Miyagi fought with his temper for a moment or two, before coming down heavily on the side of frustration and merely sighing. "Just get on with the painting, guys. That's all we can do for now." He crossed to the desk to examine the paper with a bemused expression, while everyone else hauled out the designs they had been working on the previous days.

Voices drifted in from the corridor, and instinctively they all worked a little bit quieter so they could hear.

"Igarashi is getting sacked this time for sure," the maths teacher was saying. "He's gotten so sketchy lately. I don't know why he's allowed to stay."

"He's an old hand and good with discipline," said the PE teacher. "He just needs to tone down the beer a bit."

"He was drunk last week."

"He's drunk at least once a week," sighed the man. "I warn him every time I can't keep covering for him and he just keeps going. The headmaster was going to tell him to take early retirement or be fired reasonably soon. Perhaps he found out?"

"He's left his car in the car park. Maybe he snapped."

"Maybe the boys murdered him!" laughed the maths teacher sourly. "Can't say it would be a great loss. Or a great surprise to be honest."

"Hardly. Waifs and strays, the lot of them. Kamijou's got fighting spirit, and if Takatsuki hits another growth spurt he might cut a mean figure. But Kusama and Miyagi are too soft, Takahashi's both too soft and too small, and Usami might manage it, but you'd never get him convicted."

Shinobu didn't need to look at anyone else's face to tell they were all wearing the look of displeased offence as he knew was on his own face.

"It would be nice to see someone try," said the maths teacher, nasty pleasure in her voice. "Can we leave them alone, really?"

"It's such a bad idea," laughed the man, "But they've got it all to lose. Miyagi and Usami are on their last legs with the school. Usami would be long gone if it weren't for the family name. They fuck this up and they are outta here!" He chuckled again. "No, let's see what they do. Call it an experiment in independent learning or punishment or some crap; the headmaster would eat that up."

"True. Right then, you tell them how to lock up and I'm on my way. Are you coming for drinks tonight?"

"As if I would miss it!" Footsteps rang in two directions – Shinobu struggled not to cringe with the memories of footsteps from the nights before – and the PE teacher stuck his head back through the door and lobbed a set of keys at Miyagi's head. "Lock all the doors and make sure all the windows are closed before you leave. Just post the keys back through when you go outside."

"That doesn't seem very safe," said Miyagi carefully pocketing the keys anyway.

"Just do it, Miyagi. I'm giving you a chance to prove you're responsible again. You should think about taking that."

Miyagi's scowl was so thunderous this time Shinobu could practically hear the rumbling. The PE teacher jauntily walked away, and it wasn't until Shinobu got up and practically led the older student to his desk again that Miyagi moved.

Sensing his bad mood, the rest of the boys settled back in to painting quietly, and Shinobu pressed a paintbrush loaded with red paint into Miyagi's hands.

"It's therapeutic," he insisted. Surprisingly, Miyagi actually laughed and then, something Shinobu would have never dreamed of predicting, he leant over and kissed the younger boy's cheek.

"Let's see then," said Miyagi, settling in to work as Shinobu blushed as red as the paint.

Painting was also messier today – they had a lot of corners and nooks and crannies to splotch paint on – and by the time an hour and a half had passed, several of them were practically covered in various shades.

Misaki had found himself seated by Akihiko again, and had spent an hour clearly worrying about the blonde's general disinterest and lack of emotion and then half an hour wishing that he would go back to that state again. He was still drained and moving like a clockwork toy that was winding down, but he was definitely moving a bit faster than before. Before long, Misaki had found himself spattered in pink paint and had spent more time chiding Akihiko that actually painting anything.

"I give up!" he exclaimed eventually, "You are an impossible man to be anywhere near!" He splodged a dollop of green paint on Akihiko's nose, and left the boy to wipe it away with a hanky, while Misaki himself crossed to the sink and switched on the taps.

It was then Shinobu realised that through their hour and a half long stay, there had been no light flickering, no grumbling, no pitch dark. So when Misaki screamed and leapt away from the sink as if he had been burned, the shock was all the more grateful. Everyone sprang up – no one as fast as Akihiko, who whipped Misaki away from the sink and to a chair quicker than Shinobu had realised he could move – and watched in horror as Akihiko daubed blood away from Misaki's hands.

"The sink, the sink," Misaki was gabbling, trembling constantly. "Look at the sink, _look at the sink_."

Shinobu looked at the sink and immediately wished he hadn't. The tap was still running, fluid splattering thickly into the metal basin. It was obviously blood, thick and gory and so red it was almost black. Someone retched, and he realised distantly it was him when Miyagi turned him about and pulled him to his chest.

"Turn the tap off!" Miyagi barked, his voice reverberating against his Shinobu's ear. "Nowaki!"

There was a squeaking noise and then the thick running noise stopped. Shinobu let himself be held for a few minutes longer, before he pulled away and checked on Misaki.

With an air of over exaggerated calm, Akihiko was carefully wiping any trace of gore from the younger boy's hands with his handkerchief, and Misaki was watching him intensely, face so pale it was almost green. Hiroki and Nowaki were having a hushed conversation from their position nearer the sinks, and Shinobu eased himself back into Miyagi's protective shadow.

"You all right, brat?" rumbled the older boy softly.

"Fine," said Shinobu, speaking shortly when he realised how much his voice was shaking. "Just the blood… And what happened yesterday…"

The light trembled delicately and such was the tension in the room that everyone froze for a second.

"This is hateful," growled Akihiko, whose animation seemed to be returning in leaps and bounds now that he had Misaki to comfort and clean up. He wadded the blood soaked rag up and threw it at the bin, patting Misaki on the head when he turned back round. For his part, Misaki was outwardly taking the whole blood pouring from the taps onto his hands better than Shinobu had imagined he would, and was sitting still and checking his hands compulsively.

"Are you sure you've got it all off?" He asked, tremulousness evident in his voice.

"As much as I can," answered Akihiko, with a soft tinge to his normally crystallised classy voice. Misaki was lucky, Shinobu decided, even if he did bitch about the older boy continuously.

On the other side of the room, the hushed conversation that had been going on between Nowaki and Hiroki now broke out into full voice, with the older brunet student voicing his complaints at full volume.

"This is ridiculous," he said, clenching his fists and shrugging off one of Nowaki's hands. "Seriously, whatever the hell it is can just fucking show itself. Stop this pissing around!"

For a moment the light stabilised and Hiroki grinned triumphantly. And then the lights went off completely, clunking off in sequence down the corridor. Just before the one right outside switched off, Shinobu could have sworn he saw someone standing in the doorway.

"Oh well done!" He spat, more out of fear than anger. "Now you've made it angry!"

Hiroki scoffed in return. " Like there's anything going to be worse than standing around waiting for something to drop on us from the ceiling at any second!"

As one, they all looked up at the ceiling, being neatly blinded when the lights flickered again.

"I'm just saying that we probably shouldn't aggravate it!"

The light flickered off.

"It's probably nothing," Hiroki shouted back, "Am I the only rational person here? we've all freaked out because of a blustery night, some shitty plumbing and a crap-load of dodgy wiring! Are we all five? I know you are anyway, brat." he levelled a fierce gaze on Shinobu just as the lights cut back on.

"Kamijou, don't call Shinobu a brat," said Miyagi suddenly, and despite his sudden rage and fear Shinobu felt his heart swell in his chest at the thought of his obsession standing up for him.

"You call him that!" Snapped Hiroki, throwing his hands up in desperation.

"Let's not get into that right now," growled Miyagi.

The lights died entirely. Silence reigned.

"And now this," spat Hiroki. He kicked out at something, and the object in question clunked across the floor and smacked into something the middle of their little circle.

The light came on. Something was standing there, in the centre of them all. Watching with a blackened, eyeless face.

The light went off.

Never had Shinobu been so quiet in his life. Every cell of his body was straining to listen for movement, for the dripping footsteps, for the grumbling. All he could hear was the shaky breathing of all his friends, partially hidden by then bizarrely shrill whistle of his own breath through his nose.

The light came on.

Nothing was there anymore. Shinobu wasn't sure whether this was worse or better.

* * *

No one moved for a long time, and no one spoke. Nowaki was the first to make a move, slowly collecting the chair Hiroki had kicked over and placed it back on all four feet. Miyagi and Shinobu remained frozen, the older student's arm flung out protectively over Shinobu's midriff, and Akihiko sank down onto his stool like a puppet whose strings had just been cut. Hiroki did not move for a very long time, but when he did it was because Nowaki urged him to take a seat.

One after the other, they all sat down, chairs arranged in a haphazard circle. Misaki wasn't sure why none of them had run or why they weren't running now, but it seemed that they were mutually agreeing that running wasn't worth it. Misaki wasn't even sure how you went about getting away from things like this.

"What do we do?" asked Nowaki, after a while. They had sat in silence, none of them looking at the others, for a few minutes before he had spoken. "We can't keep coming in here and having this happen to us."

"Yes, because the teachers are going to believe us when we tell them what we've seen." Even Akihiko seemed reluctant to actually describe what it was they had experienced, and Misaki decided that someone should broach the subject.

"What exactly have we seen?" he asked, heart leaping nervously when they all turned to look at him. "Only… We don't know what this is… It's obviously something, but maybe there's something we can do to stop it?"

"He has a point," said Miyagi, after a moment. "There's a lot of old superstitions about ghosts and demons. Maybe something like that would work on it."

"So, we're just accepting that we've found ourselves trapped in some horror movie now?" Hiroki still looked the least convinced, but now that he had kicked a chair into some horrible blackened thing he seemed able to believe.

"Unfortunately, unless there's a gas leak in this room, I think we're running out of options," said Akihiko. He took a deep breath and said, "Last night, when I walked out into the dark, I heard something. Someone screaming. And I smelt that stench of death, the one that Nowaki smelt too." He shuddered briefly, and Misaki would have reached out and touched his arm if he hadn't been hugging himself for comfort. "And now we've all seen that _thing_…"

"Tomorrow, we can send people off to research things," declared Miyagi. "I'll look in the library before school and at lunch, and you can join me if you want. But we can't stop working."

"I don't want to face that bloody thing again!" snapped Kamijou. "I'd rather risk getting in more trouble."

"Remember what the teachers said," Akihiko reminded him dully, "Some of us don't have that option."

For a moment Hiroki looked like he wanted to complain, but then he shook his head and lowered his head into his hands. "Damn it, we've got to stay, don't we?"

"Technically you don't…" Miyagi wavered on his point for a moment and then said, "Me and Akihiko are screwed, but the rest of you could get away with it. You might end up in another detention, but there would be a teacher there to protect you and maybe more students, so you wouldn't be such a target."

"Yes, but my point is I'm not leaving you two to be murdered by some tap-infesting, light hating, shadow monster!" snapped Hiroki. "Jesus, Miyagi, don't be so stupid!"

"I can't abandon you," said Nowaki honestly. "I couldn't live with that."

"I'm not going to leave you either!" insisted Shinobu, and Misaki repeated the sentiment moments later, meeting Akihiko's gaze with only a hint of a blush.

And with that, it was decided. They'd see it out until the bitter end.

* * *

**Hurrah!** Still on target!

Sorry about any spelling/grammar/typo things. I'll edit it properly once it's finished.


	5. Five Days

**Friday 26****th**** October**

* * *

Lunchtime of this day fond them all in the library, ranged about shelves on mythology and fiction. Akihiko had his nose deep in a book he had brought from home, an old tome that Hiroki reckoned he had seen on one of the showy bookshelves in the Usami library. Hiroki himself had picked a heavy encyclopaedia, and was musing through the mythology sections, while Nowaki was leaning heavily on a desk, head in hands and eyes half closed. The schools the young children that lived in his home went to had had a day off today, and had been rowdy the night before. Even Akihiko looked healthier than him.

"There's a lot on specific stories," said Miyagi, pacing past with a newspaper in his hands. "But nothing general."

"I've got it pinned down to some sort of ghost or demon," said Shinobu, who had been trying to direct Misaki to search literature for him, and had eventually given up. Hiroki was sure Misaki had some talents, possibly in Akihiko taming, through few of them were in working with literature. "I think. We've seen so little of it, I'm really not sure."

"we'll run with that," said Miyagi flicking through his paper. "Ugh. I'm sure they're not allowed to publish pictures like this." He flickered the paper outwards and gleefully showed Hiroki a picture of gory remains sprawled on a river bank. Not all limbs were attached, and the head was missing.

"Stop it, idiot!" Hiroki raised his encyclopaedia threateningly and Miyagi galloped off, chuckling to himself, to hide behind Shinobu. Hiroki decided it was beneath his dignity to chase the silly bastard around the library - again - and answered Shinobu's scowl with one of his own. The little blonde was getting very protective over the older student, and Miyagi seemed to have stopped discouraging it. Initially he had confided in Hiroki about the whole sorry situation, they were in the lit club together and had been friends for a few years, but now he had fallen silent on the whole affair, and in Hiroki's experience this meant that something was happening. People wanted his advice, but they were always afraid of his opinions on things they'd already done. Akihiko was similar - he'd spent three or four years mooning over Misaki's older brother and whining to Hiroki about it as he did, and no he had fixed his attentions on Misaki instead, he'd stopped taking to Hiroki about it at all. Previously this would have been a horrendous slap to the face for Hiroki, who had his own long term, secret crush, but Nowaki had been a handy distraction. More than a distraction, really.

"Is there anything useful in that," he asked Akihiko, shaking those thoughts away. Very inappropriate for a library.

"There's a few tips on how to get rid of ghosts and things. Mostly praying." Akihiko flicked over to another page and ran a cold eye down the words. "And incense."

"Some of the clubs were planning on having incense sticks lit for the festival. We could take a few of those," said Misaki, helpfully. Hiroki rolled his eyes as Akihiko fixed the younger boy with a stunningly lovely smile. Although he had Nowaki now and had found that he actually much preferred the tall, dark and handsome type, there was simply no denying that Akihiko's tall, pale and beautiful look was in its own class of pretty. Misaki certainly struggled for a few seconds to find words and then tried to get up off his chair, tangling his feet in the legs and fell to the floor with such a crash the librarian came running. Hiroki had to duck his head deep inside his encyclopaedia to hide his cackling laughter as Misaki apologised like he'd just run over someone's dog.

* * *

Nowaki had stolen a handful of incense sticks from the storeroom where the festival supplies were being kept, feeling only slightly guilty about the situation. If the school had employed some decent teachers, then they would be kept supervised and a teacher would have spotted the worrying phenomena and they wouldn't be forced to deal with it on their own. A few incense sticks was the least they were owed.

They lit the incense – after getting Akihiko and Miyagi to block the smoke alarms over – and wafted it around the room, paying special attention to the door and the taps. Then Miyagi had bowed and said a quick prayer, stitched together from ceremonies he distantly remembered from his childhood and demon removal ceremonies they had found in the books. And if that didn't work, they chivvied Misaki out into the middle of the classroom and took him to ask it politely to go away.

"Um." He shot a scowl back at the assembled ranks of the other boys. "Why do_ I_ have to do this?"

"Because you're the nicest," said Akihiko, "And the least threatening."

"I hate you," said Misaki, sweetly. He turned back to the room in general and clasped his hands in front of him. "Um, so monster-san, we're sorry if we're upsetting you? It's just that you scared us a bit, and we're sorry? So if you could just, um, go away? Or stop sneaking up on us! That would be good! Thank you!" He bowed politely and straightened to stare at the group again. "Was that good?"

"It was excellent, Misaki," said Nowaki, who always liked to prop peoples' egos up. Beside him, he could almost hear Hiro-san rolling his eyes. "What do we do now?"

Miyagi brought his page of notes out and read through it again. "Finish painting and start with decorations. There's some rolls of fabric in the storeroom, and special paint."

"I'm starting to feel like I'm in some art therapy," said Akihiko darkly. "Between this and the supernatural nonsense, I think it might be better to be expelled."

"Don't say that, Usagi-san!" bleated Misaki. It quickly devolved into petty, cheerful bickering and Nowaki smiled at Hiro-san, reminded of their own behaviour.

"Don't be sappy," warned the older student, darkly. "Or it'll end badly for you."

Nowaki knew the threat was in vain, and continued to be soppy to his heart's content as they ventured out of the classroom to find the supplies. They ended up back in the cupboard that Nowaki had taken the incense sticks from earlier, and if it took them a few extra minutes to get back from their task, no one mentioned it.

The wood was mostly painted and re stacked in its piles against the walls, so now it was mostly painting banners and signs. There was more measuring and cutting to do, this time from rolls of canvas and dark silk, but it took a much shorter length of time, so it wasn't long before they were re-armed with paintbrushes and writing slogans and messages into foot high letters.

Due to the lack of room on the workbenches, Nowaki quickly grew tired of knocking scissors and box-cutters onto his toes with every sweep of his hand across the fabric. He snatched up as many tools as he could carry and carted them over to one of the cupboards near the door. Just as he finished putting them into their correct boxes and places, the taps at the sink began to vibrate.

"Fuck," said Hiroki, as Misaki nearly leapt into the relative security of Akihiko's arms. #

The light began to flash.

"We did all the things!" Shinobu exclaimed, throwing his paintbrush down. "We did all the things, and it's still after us!"

Hiro-san appeared to just realise where Nowaki was and nearly leapt out of his seat. "Come back here, Nowaki, don't be near the door when it comes back!"

Nowaki didn't have anywhere near enough time to even take a step.

The door slammed open, catching him a hefty blow on the shoulder and spinning him to the ground. His breath was knocked from him with the impact and he could only look up in breathless horror as the thing prowled in. The crash of the door had upset the little bowl containing the incense, spilling ash over the floor. The thing simply swept it out of the way with one swipe of its long arms, turning its eyeless head this way and that to pinpoint where they all were.

"It hasn't worked!" shrilled Shinobu, clutching Miyagi's arm and trying to hide behind him and drag him away at the same time. Nowaki was grateful to notice that Akihiko had dragged Hiroki back as well as Misaki, and was struggling to keep the older boy in place. The thing hadn't spotted him yet, so he remained as still as possible, until a tendril of slimy black oozed over his leg and its head rotated about to locate him.

Appendages that had to be hands, fingers thin as bones and nails crooked over, extended out towards him. Nowaki struggled to get up, but the tendril had fixed arouidn his ankle and robbed him of his balance entirely. The stink of rot and death filled his nostrils once more, and he desperately tried to look around the darkness so he could at least see Hiro-san one last time.

God, he could see its _teeth_…

"Bastard! Leave him alone!" Something cracked sharply against the thing's body, and it jerked, whipping away to find the attacker. Someone else grabbed Nowaki's arms and towed him away, someone else appearing at his feet to hack at the tendrils attached to his ankles. They dived away when the thing realised what was happening, but now there was more shouting and anger and things being thrown and Nowaki's eyes rolled back in his head, the image of the monster's teeth still forefront in his mind.

* * *

Worry spiked through Miyagi's mind momentarily when Nowaki fainted dead away , but he had other pressing concerns to think about. Hiroki was bombarding the creature with a rain of tools and invective, while Shinobu and Misaki were desperately hunting for more ammo in the cupboards. Akihiko, who had freed Nowaki from the thing's tendrils, was now struggling with it himself, warding it's cadaverous hands off with a box cutter while he struggled to remove its coils from his legs. Finally, he snapped and lashed out with a mean right hook that knocked the creature staggering backwards. Hiroki landed a vicious blow with a wooden strut he had misappropriated for use as a kendo stick, and the creature toppled for a second and then sort of melted…

Everyone leapt out of the way, Miyagi hauling Nowaki up onto a desk and clambering up on to a stool himself, and the dark mess that had been the monster scudded across the floor and oozed through the door. Akihiko, balancing awkwardly on a side table, kicked out a foot and slammed the door shut.

Hiroki crawled across the table to Nowaki, knocking a paint pot to the floor in the process. To give them some room – Nowaki was starting to come around – Miyagi hopped off his stool and crossed the room to help Shinobu off a bookshelf.

"You all right?" he asked in a hushed voice, brushing a lock of honey gold hair out of the boy's pale face and tucking it behind an ear. It had been a swift turnabout from not wanting anything to do with the boy, to suddenly deeply caring for him – but if he was honest with himself, he had been intrigued by the initial approach and Shinobu had always been incredibly pretty and he never seemed to judge Miyagi for the Incident. He must have known, but it didn't seem to be something that bothered him, and that was one of the few things Miyagi really wanted.

"I'm fine," said Shinobu, giving a brief little tremor and an even briefer smile. "You were brave."

Miyagi shrugged and tried to find a facial expression that neither made him look smug or betrayed the fact he was blushing. "It had to be done."

They looked over as Nowaki sat up, supported by Hiroki, and scrubbed his face ferociously.

"I'm glad that thing came nowhere near me," said Shinobu honestly. Miyagi nodded and squeezed one of Shinobu's shoulders, suddenly apprehensive about showing more affection than this in public.

"It's gone now," he said. It certainly appeared that their assault had had the effect the insence and the prayers and the politeness had failed to have, and the air was clearer, the tension was lifted and even the dodgy light didn't cast as sallow a glow. However, the place was an absolute tip – paint spilled over the floor, ash and incense sticks crumbled everywhere, papers and tools and wood thrown about the room. "We need to tidy up," he declared, not lifting his hand from the warm fragility of Shinobu's shoulder; it felt like it belonged there.

"You're fucking kidding me," said Hiroki, fiercely holding onto Nowaki's shoulders still.

Miyagi waved a dismissive hand. "He can stay there. The rest of us need to make this place presentable again. I'm not being expelled for vandalising a classroom and leaving the evidence over the weekend. There are much better things I could be expelled for."

They tidied industriously for half an hour, Misaki even getting down on his hands and knees to mop the worst of the paint off the floor, while Nowaki recovered slowly. Miyagi had taken one look at his face and found himself completely unable to begrudge the boy a little time to recover – Nowaki looked like someone who had seen his own death.

In the end, the room was spotless again, but the work they had been expected to do in a day was only half finished and it wasn't something that was easy to transport home.

"We'll just have to stay longer on Monday," Miyagi decided, to a few pensive noises. "I know, I know, but it'll be busier next week, with the festival and all. We won't be the only people in the school, so maybe it'll be scared off."

Hiroki opened his mouth to say something when he froze. Miyagi listened carefully and his own heart sunk to the region of his knees.

Footsteps. Slow and measured and approaching the class room.

Almost as one, they picked up the nearest object that was even remotely feasible as a weapon and slowly backed away from the door so there was at least one desk before them and it.

The footsteps stopped. There was a heart-poundingly tense moment, and then the door creaked open slowly, almost apologetically. Miyagi could see Hiroki's arm muscles winding up to throw the industrial stapler he'd grabbed overarm at the door, and just grabbed his wrist in time.

It was a man. No blackened surface, no eyeless face, no skeletal fingers clutching the doorframe. Just a slightly harried looking man, with slicked back hair and a fancy looking suit.

"Tanaka-san?" said Akihiko, sounding mystified.

"Akihiko-sama!" The man's face lit up momentarily and he stepped fully into the room. He didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that six teenaged boys had, just moments before, been ranged at the opposite side of the room and armed with staplers and hammers. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but you're late and you are going to be attending the opera tonight."

"I am?" Akihiko set down his screwdriver, and glanced back at the rest of the boys. "But I'm in my uniform. And its covered in paint."

"There's a change of clothes in the car," said the man, raising an eyebrow as Akihiko extracted his blazer from under a table. "You're going to be late as it is, Akihiko-sama…"

With that, Akihiko was swept off. Miyagi waited until the paired footsteps were no longer audible and then asked who the hell that was.

"Family butler," said Hiroki, absently, grabbing his own blazer and coat. "The Usamis are disgustingly, revoltingly rich. Vomit-inducingly rich."

"Charming," said Miyagi. He was dreading walking to the bus in the dark, but Shinobu volunteered the use of his car for everyone, even if they lived in the opposite direction. "Right then. Everyone ready to head?"

They left together.

For once the school was fully empty. There wasn't even anything left in the shadows.

* * *

**Tomorrow's update** might be a wee bit late – I'm heading off somewhere for a day, but the chapter's prewritten so no worries about that.

Until then!


	6. Four Days

**Saturday 27****th**** October**

* * *

Shinobu spent most of Saturday lounging in bed, munching on a packet of crisps he kept stored down by his bed in case hunger struck and trying not to think about Miyagi too much in case his parents barged in an inopportune time.

Come the afternoon, he hauled himself from his bed to beg lunch from his mother, and then returned to his room to do his homework. Normally homework wasn't his greatest let down, but this week with all the detentions and the mind bending terror, he hadn't been keeping up like he normally did. It took until teatime to get it done – it had really piled up, and Shinobu was a great believer in finishing an essay in the same sitting you had started it in – and he practically skipped down to the dining room, shaking the cramp out of his hand as he went.

He hadn't seen his family for the past week really, so after dinner he spent much of his evening downstairs, pestering his sister or trying to reassure his parents he wasn't heading down the path to ruin by getting some detentions every now and then. He was just a bit sarcastic, he sometimes spoke before he really thought about the consequences, but there were much worse people out there. He knew where not to push it to.

He didn't know about the shadowy form, peering through the window to his bedroom with an eyeless face. It was gone before he went to bed.

* * *

Hiroki on the other hand, spent his Saturdays being productive. He practised his piano – no longer a priority, but still a talent he liked to keep fresh –, did some of his homework and had a brief, yet exciting, argument with his father about Akihiko just before he went out to meet the other boy at their designated secret base.

It had been a long time since either of them had really called it their secret base, but those were the terms Hiroki still thought of it as. Honestly, they didn't really need it anymore – they were old enough to protect their privacy in their own bedrooms – but the lure of the little clearing was strong, even on chilly autumn days. The trees were shedding leaves quickly these days, and there was a constant blanket of red and gold on the grass, excellent for bombarding Akihiko with when he was being a jerk.

Today, though, Akihiko was in a mild mood and seemed less interested in Hiro-baiting than normal. He had actually brought an assignment with him to finish, which was bizarre as Hiroki tended to be the only one who brought homework outside of their houses.

"Takahashi has you whipped," said Hiroki, laughing at Akihiko's brief expression of consternation. "He's got you doing your homework. I don't believe this."

Akihiko looked down at his lapful of notebooks and said, "Keep this up and I'll tell Nowaki about your fling with Miyagi."

Hiroki gasped, unable to contain the noise. "Bastard! You wouldn't!"

That pale blue gaze met his own fierier one for a few moments, daring him to look away, and then Akihiko laughed quietly and shook his head. "No, I wouldn't. I just like to see your face when you panic."

"You jackass!" Hiroki's shout felled a small avalanche of leaves onto their heads, and it all descended into a leaf fight the like they hadn't had since they were ten.

Afterwards, suddenly feeling released of tension he hadn't realised he'd carried out of the school, Hiroki had headed home for tea. He'd asked Akihiko if he'd like to join him, but the other boy had had to regretfully decline.

"I may or may not have caused my mother to have a bit of a psychotic breakdown in the interval of the opera," he had said, packing up his own accoutrements as Hiroki grabbed his. "I'm only allowed out of the house because she tried to glass me, and Tanaka-san felt sorry enough for me to not tell father I've snuck out."

"I'll come over tomorrow then," said Hiroki, "And we'll pretend we've another assignment to work on together, so you won't have to sneak out."

"Crafty as ever."

The Kamijou household had been a bit frosty when Hiroki had returned – his mother was Akihiko's greatest supporter, even if his father apparently hated the boy, and she had clearly had a few words with her husband – but it warmed quickly as ever, and they spent the evening and early night all lounging in the living room. Hiroki and his father were reading, while his mother attempted to knit, cursing quietly every time she lost count or dropped a stitch.

Hiroki went to bed feeling better than he had done in days, happy and secure in his home.

Perhaps if he had looked out his window before he dropped off to sleep, he might have not felt either of those things quite so strongly.

Something lurked in the shadows.

* * *

Akihiko's day had been a bit of a stressful one. He had been woken early for a brief but tiresome questioning about the events of the previous night; his father wanted to make sure his story still tallied with the one he had rattled off when his mother had attempted to gouge one of his eyes out with a champagne glass. More or less reassured, the man had then gone to work - voluntarily and on a weekend, thought Akihiko, and he wondered why none of his family liked him very much – and Akihiko had snoozed until he was due to meet Hiroki.

On returning to the mansion, he had had a bit of nasty encounter with his mother, who coincidentally returned home at the same time, and it had been the quick work of Tanaka-san to separate them before someone did lose an eye. Akihiko had sauntered back to his room feeling good though; he was growing up, and his mother was no longer much taller than he was. Eventually he would be taller and bigger than her, and then her attempts to hurt him would be less than frightening.

He'd eaten his tea alone in his room – his mother still rampaging downstairs posing too much of a risk – and then lounged about with a notebook and some haphazard ideas for a short story he had been meaning to write. The terror of the past week had soured his inspiration somewhat, so it was a bit of a struggle to get the words to line up in exactly the right order he wanted them, and sometimes his mind would slide entirely off track and land him straight back into memories he wish he didn't have.

Screams. Darkness and the scent of death.

That thing and its horrible eyeless face and clinging tendrils and those fingers reaching steadily for him…

He threw the notebook aside and went to ask Tanaka-san for a towel. A nice warm bath would clear his thoughts and then he'd go to sleep and try to top up what he'd lost during the week to nightmares and fear.

Trusting Tanaka to bring the towel while he was in the bath, he went ahead and ran the water, settling in under a fluffy layer of sweet smelling bubbles. It had taken three goes to get exactly the right temperature and amount of bubbles in the water, and, due to Akihiko's slightly unfortunate incompetence at any sort of simple household task, there was a lot of water soaking the floor when he had finally stripped down and stepped in.

Perhaps he had underestimated how tired he was, because it felt like only a few minutes after he got in when his mouth slipped down under the layer of the water and he breathed in a mouthful sharply. After a few minutes of choked coughing, he realised that the bubbles had dissipated, the water was less than lukewarm and he was more than a bit prune-y. He pulled the plug with his toes and stood up as the water drained away to switch the water supply to the showerhead.

The initial blast of water was freezing, but he'd had plenty of cold showers when he had been much smaller and his mother had been unkind, so the temperature was only slightly unpleasant. It warmed quickly and he stood there, wobbling slightly, content in the warm water for a long time.

Eventually he forced himself to grab his shampoo and scrub it onto his hair. He opened his eyes mid-rinse, and he caught a flash of colour out of the corner of his eyes, draped over one of his raised arms.

It was red.

For a moment he wasn't sure whether he wanted to know, but he slowly lowered his arms anyway.

Blood. Black slime.

He didn't scream or shout, his voice locking down tight in his chest, and he didn't bolt immediately. He reached out, turned the shower off, and slowly extricated himself from the bath. A glance back at the showerhead showed that there were a series of thin black tendrils reaching out hungrily, searching vaguely.

The clothes he left on the floor and he padded through the water spill silently, reaching the door just assomeone knocked on the other side. With little heed for his nakedness, Akihiko wrenched it open and walked straight past Tanaka-san on the other side.

"I thought you were taking a long t-" The butler's voice died mid-word. "Akihiko-sama? What has happened?"

The towel was a lovely, fluffy sheet of a thing, but it made little difference.

"I'm going to need another towel," said Akihiko, scrubbing ferociously at his shoulders. He wasn't sure whether the cold drip down the centre of his back was just cooling water or the black mess that the creature left behind. "I'm _really_ going to need another towel."

"Akihiko-sama, have you hurt yourself?"

"I'm fine!" It snapped out like a whip-crack, betraying the distress within. The butler started towards Akihiko and was warded off with the gift of the gore sodden towel. "I'm fine," repeated Akihiko, a little more calmly. "Just… Another towel. I'm not hurt." He shuddered, a distant scream echoing in his mind. "You know the pipes in this house are dreaful."

"That doesn't look like rust," said Tanaka-san doubtfully.

"What else could it be?" said Akihiko, attempting to wipe slime out of his hair with his fingers. "If I'm not hurt."

For a moment, Akihiko was afraid that the butler would question him more and then the possibility of snapping and spilling the whole sorry tale was very much an option, and that would get him a one way track to a psychiatrist's office. And while he did probably need a trip to a psychiatrist, it wouldn't be for having delusions of shadow monsters. But, happily, Tanaka-san relucatnly accepted it and went off to fetch another towel.

This had been an incredibly stressful day indeed, and it worsened just a little bit more when Akihiko glanced back across his bed to his bedroom window, and spotted an eyeless face watching outside.

* * *

**A shorter chapter** this time! But full of gore and horribleness, just what you need on a Saturday.


	7. Three Days

**Sunday 28****th**** October**

* * *

Misaki was woken early in the morning but Takahiro complaining that the lights weren't working and that they'd have to call the landlord when they got back in from their respective part time jobs. Takahiro did office work for one of those big companies that never stopped working, not even on Sundays, and Misaki was a waiter at a nearby café.

Both of them were out most of the day and Takahiro arrived home first. So by the time Misaki had come back home, what Takahiro had put down as rust stains in the sink were long cleared away.

* * *

Normally the children were happy and bouncy on a Sunday, using the last of their free time to the greatest extent. Nowaki would do his best to put the day aside and focus on his little adoptive siblings, but today he was focusing on comforting them.

Every single last one of them, from the newest arrival of a eight week old baby, to the young teenagers who were only a few years younger than Nowaki himself, were in terrible moods. People had been pushed over and bitten, and most of the girls were crying, along with a great number of the boys. A whole range of time outs had been enforced, and now Nowaki was just trying to soothe someone else before their tantrum spiralled into something that would require a timeout itself, when one of the girls ran up and tugged his sleeve.

"Mika-chan," he said, tiredly, as Takuya-kun threw himself to the ground again and started banging his little fists on the floorboards. "I'm a little busy at the moment. Can you wait just a second?"

Mika-chan ran away, a pout on her little face, but she returned within minutes.

"Nii-san," she chirruped, tugging on his sleeve again. "Nii-san, this is 'portant!"

Since Takuya-kun wasn't going to quieten any time soon, Nowaki turned to the girl. "What's the matter then?"

"There's a man," she said, pointing to the front of the orphanage. "He's waiting outside. He's _creepy_."

"Creepy how?" But Nowaki was already moving to the door. He wouldn't stand for people perving over his little brothers and sisters. Mika-chan followed him, tugging on his sleeves the whole way.

"He's creepy," she repeated, "And he's all dressed in black and you can't see his face and he's scary. I don't like him."

Nowaki threw open the door and strode out just as the realisation sank it. And sure enough, across the road that ran outside their home, was standing a man. And if you didn't look carefully enough, you could easily think he was wearing all black, and that perhaps he'd just angling himself so his face was in the shade.

Nowaki knew better.

"Inside," he said firmly to Mika-chan, craning his neck quickly to see if there were any other children playing in their little front garden. Across the road, the thing stepped forward and Nowaki leapt back into the house, slamming the door and closing all the locks.

"What's wrong, nii-san?" Mika-chan was watching him with big, innocent, dark eyes and Nowaki shuddered at the thought of her experiencing the bone chilling dread that came across him every time he encountered that thing.

"Nothing at all," he said, voice full of false cheeriness. "You run off and play with Takuya-kun. He sounds like he's calmed down now."

"All right!" Mika-chan skipped off, and Nowaki took the opportunity to peer out the peephole in the front door. For a moment he was terrified that he would get a close up view of the thing's eyeless face, or its teeth, but the view was empty.

The thing had clearly moved on.

* * *

His weekend runs were Miyagi's method of escaping the crushing pressure of his household. The night before his father had started an argument with him, which had then spilled over onto his mother and now it was agonising to be under the same roof as them. Miyagi had been walking and jogging about for hours now, just desperate not to go home.

He wished that Shinobu lived closer, so that he could call the younger boy out to meet him and talk to someone that didn't hate him once a weekend. Even Hiroki would have done, because Miyagi had always suspected the boy's cutting remarks were the mark of a grudging affection. But instead, there was no one to meet him, no one to call. Miyagi just wandered and wandered until dusk began to creep in.

Sipping from a soda he had bought, he trotted around a park until his aching feet forced him to sit down. His head was aching from a day out in the cold, and his feet were, by now, absolutely throbbing. Never mind that, the view from his park bench was nice enough, with a pretty little lake and golden-leaved trees, and the relief from not having to be in his house was indescribable.

He straightened and stretched out his arms above his head, grimacing as his shoulders popped and creaked. It was nice view, true enough. Perhaps he should invite Shinobu out here someday? They could walk around and maybe get dinner together; when had he started to think of the boy in that-

He froze mid thought and stared. Across the little lake was a shadowy form, arising from the still water in utter silence. Even though it didn't have eyes, it met Miyagi's gaze and he developed the disturbing sensation that it was smiling at him.

Never had Miyagi had run so far so fast. He left the park in a blurring hurry, nearly knocking a few people over in his blind rush. There was still a long distance to run, barely pausing at road junctions and nearly being run over several times. It didn't help that he kept glancing the thing out of the corner of his eye, or maybe waiting a few junctions ahead or lurking behind him when he was forced to stop.

His house was still cold and unwelcoming, but Miyagi blazed in like it was the safest place in the world. Neither of his parents were about to witness his entrance, which was possibly lucky, because he leapt into his room, locked the door and grabbed his baseball bat from his PE equipment.

Then he sat down, cross legged, on his bed, placing the baseball bat across his lap, and he watched and waited.

If the thing came back, he would be ready.

* * *

Hiroki had loaded his bag with books and headed out for the Usami household about noon that Sunday. It was a short walk across the road and up the meandering drive before he was standing in front of the massive double front doors and wondering how on earth someone always answered the door with a few moments, when the doorbell was a tinny, pathetic chime of a thing and the house extended so hugely behind the doors.

Today it was Tanaka-san who answered the door, looking smart as ever. He smiled and backed away to allow Hiroki to enter the cavernous entrance hall and closed the door after him.

"Akihiko-sama said you might be coming today." The butler took Hiroki's coat and hung it neatly on the row of pegs. The swanky woollen greatcoat on the first peg indicated that Usami Fuyuhiko was probably at home somewhere and the slightly smaller coat on the peg just down from it betrayed that Usami Haruhiko was also present. Hiroki didn't want to run into either of them, but he especially didn't want to come across the owner of the third coat – made of suede and trimmed with fur, it was intensely fashionable and belonged to Usami Akina, of whom the mere thought made Hiroki break into a cold sweat. None of Akihiko's usual coats hung on the pegs anymore – the blond kept them in his room in case he ever needed to make a quick escape, say, out of his window.

"Thank you, Tanaka-san," said Hiroki, who was unfailingly polite to the butler. He could not think of a more thankless job than being the caretaker for such a family of weirdoes and nutcases.

"Akihiko-sama is in the south drawing room," said the butler as Hiroki mounted the first step. He turned back, puzzled, as the butler continued, "Should I take you there?"

Hiroki had been in the west drawing room, Akihiko's father's study – an interesting experience when they had been twelve and had brought down his vague wrath for disappearing without trace into the forest surrounding the estate for perhaps a few hours longer than necessary – and at least three of the rooms that were classified as sitting rooms, but contained enough books to be libraries. He had not, however, been in the south drawing room.

"Yes, please," he said, unsure whether to be exasperated that his friend's house contained so many rooms that even after nearly seven years of friendship, Hiroki still hadn't been in them all, or worried that Akihiko was in this new room. Akihiko stuck to his bedroom like an animal protecting its den, and rarely ventured into other rooms unless he needed to fetch someone or be told off by someone. Hiroki was puzzled indeed.

The south drawing room was at the back of the house, and was well lit up with sun at this time of day. Tanaka-san promised he would bring tea and snacks along in a moment and left Hiroki to dump his accoutrements at the table Akihiko was sitting at and look at his friend.

Akihiko seemed unusually taut, Hiroki pondered as he sat down at the table. He wasn't used to this room – normally they worked in Akihiko's bedroom – and he smacked his knee sharply on a table leg. Swearing quietly, since he was never sure just how sound proof the mansion's walls were, he surveyed his friend more closely.

As well as the sallow skin, dark shadows under his eyes and the posture that could only be described as brittle, upright and tense, Akihiko was also trembling slightly. His hair was no longer his natural pure silvery blonde, but a darker, deeper fawn colour, almost pink in places.

"What did you do to your hair?" Hiroki asked, aware that Akihiko had only changed his hair colour once before; to a sheer black colour which had produced such an alarming resemblance to his grandfather that his father had made him bleach it back immediately.

With a sharp smile, several degrees off what Hiroki would describe as pleasant, Akihiko said, "Something bled on it."

"What?" Hiroki's brain ticked over for a second. "Did you have a fight with your mother again?"

"No," said Akihiko shortly. "Not a fight." He sorted through the books they had assembled, the majority of them on supernatural beings and stories. His hands were shaking intensely now, Hiroki realised. "It came through my showerhead last night."

"What did?" said Hiroki, feeling a bit left behind. Realisation dawned gruesomely just as Akihiko confirmed his suspicions.

"The monster." He shuddered again, and Hiroki found a wide-eyed look of supreme horror on his friend's face that he had never seen before. "It dripped down over me, and when I ran out of the shower, it was watching me from outside my window."

"Your room is on the second floor!" exclaimed Hiroki.

Akihiko smiled that slightly mad smile again, baring more teeth than was strictly necessary. "You can be the one to inform it of that fact."

Hiroki's voice dropped to an urgent hiss as he looked around the room nervously. "Have you seen it since?"

"No. I spent the whole night awake with a torch and some candles lit around my room, but it didn't show itself again."

Hiroki shuddered to himself, imagining the steady drip of blood out of a showerhead, the sight of that blackened face at the window. The thought alone was making his heart pound and the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

"We need to deal with this," he said.

Akihiko was about to respond, flicking through the pages of an old mythology tome, when heavy footsteps strode down the hallway outside the room and the door creaked open. Hiroki's hand was automatically reaching for the heaviest book he could find amongst the pile, when he realised that the newcomer was merely Akihiko's father, and while the man was unpleasant, he wasn't swamp monster unpleasant.

"Oh hello, Kamijou-kun," Usami Fuyuhiko's standard voice was a cheery one, calculated to lure people into false senses of security. Hiroki rarely fell for it anymore, and Akihiko had long since stopped reacting to his father until the man was annoyed. "Nice to see you again."

"You too, Usami-san," said Hiroki, politely ducking his head and opening his notepad. "How are you?"

"Very well, thank you for asking." The man's dark blue gaze focused on the back of his son's head for a second, and he added, in a completely different tone, "Have you still not cleaned yourself up, Akihiko? This is getting ridiculous."

Akihiko did not deign to reply and his father scoffed, exasperatedly.

"Fine. Be that way. But you'll be going back to your doctor come next week if you carry on like this. Have a good day, Kamijou-kun!" With that, he retreated out of the room, and his heavy footsteps receded down the hallway.

"He says that like it's a threat," growled Akihiko, when the footsteps had gone entirely. "Oh well." He sighed, collapsing his shoulders down from the tense position he had held them in. "Are we going to look at these books, then?"

"No, I just brought them for the good of my health," snapped Hiroki, picking up the heaviest book and wielding it threateningly. "I meant it – we need to get this sorted out. There has to be something in one of these that'll tell us what to do."

They examined book after book until long after dark fell, eating whatever Tanaka-san brought to their sides – Hiroki consuming his with much more gusto than the still obviously shocked Akihiko – and only ceasing when Hiroki took a break from his reading to rub his aching eyes and noticed the clock read eleven o'clock.

"I'd better go," he said, voice rasping with lack of use. "Mum will be worrying where I am." He shoved his books back into the bag, and heaved it over his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, yeah?"

Akihiko moved slowly, getting up from his chair like the movement pained him. "Of course. Do you want a ride home? The chauffeurs will be away, but Tanaka-san could drive you."

They reached the front door, and Akihiko cracked it open a shade so they could see the night beyond. The weather had calmed the last few days, and it was only a slight breeze that shook the foliage of the bushes and trees nearby.

"No…" said Hiroki, hesitantly. "No, I can run. It's only down your driveway and across the road. No distance at all."

"Are you sure?" pressed Akihiko, but Hiroki stuck with his initial choice. Outside didn't feel evil tonight, not like it had done during the week at school, and he could run very, very fast when the mood took him.

"See you tomorrow," said Hiroki, stepping out into the gloom. For a moment, he wondered if he was making a mistake, but no, the atmosphere was clean and calm. When the monster was around it felt as though everything in the world was trying to get away from it, including the air itself. They exchanged another set of goodbyes and then Hiroki struck out on his own. He turned half way down the drive to see if Akihiko had gone yet, but there was still a square of light where the door remained open, and Akihiko's shadowy figure in the centre of it. Hiroki raised a hand in farewell and then jogged around the bend in the drive and left the mansion behind.

It remained a quiet walk home, and Hiroki arrived at his house feeling incredibly unsettled that nothing had happened.

At least when the monster was terrifying you, you knew where it was.

* * *

**Back to school** tomorrow! I wonder what will happen to our gang then.


	8. Two Days

**Monday 29****th**** October**

* * *

The stories the others brought back from their homes were frankly shocking, Misaki thought. Neither himself, Shinobu or Kamijou had caught sight of the monster themselves, but the other three had. Nowaki kept glancing out of the windows of the canteen nervously, while Miyagi had positioned himself with his back to the wall and was refusing to be moved, and Akihiko simply looked as if he might bite the next person who came too close. Misaki found himself, to his embarrassed pleasure, excluded from the list of potential assaultees and found himself inspecting the blond boy's hair with an expression of puzzlement. It was no longer than fine silver blond, but a darker shade almost reminiscent of pink, and when he fingered the tips gingerly, the strands were tacky and not entirely pleasant to touch.

"Have you still not showered?" asked Kamijou with a disgusted scowl.

"I have," said Akihiko coolly, "I'm not that disgusting." Kamijou laughed darkly at that until Akihiko added, "I just couldn't let my hair get wet, that's all." Almost immediately Kamijou fell silent and made an almost understanding noise.

Misaki tried to discretely wipe his hand clean on his trousers and asked, "What happened?" Whne it came to Akihiko he found himself developing a jealous streak – other people knew things that he should have been privy to as well.

"It came out of the showerhead," said Akihiko dully, sinking a bit lower in his chair. "And I experienced a whole body version of what happened to you with the technology sinks."

Misaki set down his lunch hurriedly and tried to not look too horrified. Still the memory of the slick mess over his hands made his stomach roil and his expression twist of their own accord. Akihiko made an understanding noise and leant his head into his hands.

Miyagi had already confessed to seeing the creature on Sunday, when it had stalked him home, and Nowaki had had his horrific story of the thing staking his house out from across the road. While Misaki hadn't seen the monster, he was starting to feel a bit uneasy anyway; just because he hadn't seen it didn't mean it wasn't there, and there was something highly disturbing about the idea it could have been lurking about his house and he would never know. One look at the expressions on Shinobu and Hiroki's faces confirmed they both felt much the same way.

"We have to stop this thing," said Nowaki, "I'm not having this thing following me around and following me home and threatening my family. We have to sort this out now, it's obviously not going to just go away."

"Easier said than done," grumbled Miyagi, "All we know so far is that it doesn't like being hit with things, but I'm not sure I fancy beating a great oily blob of monster to death."

"I do," said Kamijou darkly. He added, "I don't see any other option. Akihiko and I looked through some more books all Sunday and there wasn't anything useful there. If we have to beat it back then that's what we'll do."

It was true, Misaki could see no other option either, and while the thought of having to fight the thing was not pleasant, the thought that it would otherwise follow them around forever with its creepy hands and its mouthful of carnivorous teeth was much, much worse. He said as much and was surprised when everyone else nodded and agreed.

Before they could come up with a more cohesive plan than 'hit it until it goes away', the bell rang for the end of lunch and they had to go their mostly separate ways.

Misaki didn't focus through the next couple classes and instead spent much of his time trying to work out where you had to punch a swamp monster that could dissolve itself into nothingness that might hurt it successfully. The thought plagued him, even into cooking club, where they we're making cupcakes. Misaki made an extra six and decorated them nicely – even drawing a cartoon of a rabbit on the best looking one for Usagi-san -and took them to detention with him

Today they were in the assembly hall, and there was once again no teacher there to supervise them - Misaki realised with a spark of guilt that he had entirely forgotten about Igarashi-sensei's disappearance over the weekend, but tried to make a mental note to remember in future. The cupcakes went over well and they stood around eating them for some minutes before Miyagi clapped his hands together and said they should get on with what they were meant to be doing.

The first fifteen minutes involved carting the still disassembled stalls to the assembly hall so they be built and decorated fully. Miyagi and Shinobu stayed behind to organise how they were going to do this - Misaki was sure they also had an ulterior motive to getting everyone else out of the too, but didn't have time to mention it because they'd barely stepped out of the hall when Usagi-san dragged him into a nearby biology storeroom and kissed him until his knees went weak.

When they broke apart, Misaki had to hold onto a bench for balance and Usagi-san looked mildly shocked.

"Ah, sorry," he said, licking his lower lip in a gesture that Misaki felt was unnecessarily provocative. "I just felt I had to do that.."

Misaki wasn't entirely he wanted to complain and made a big fuss of straightening his shirt and blazer to distract them both. He had to pass close to Usagi-san to leave the storeroom and being that close to the older boy's body made his heart race like nothing else had ever done.

"We should focus on the work," he said, as they stepped back into the corridor. "I mean for now anyway." His traitorous blush reflex kicked in and he turned away abruptly - although it wasn't quite abrupt enough because he could feel Akihiko's smirking leer on the back of his head as he lead the way down the corridor.

"For now, certainly," said Akihiko reaching ahead of the younger boy to open the door to the technology classroom open. Misaki stepped through with as much dignity he could muster with such a bright blush on his face, but inside he was pleased - Usagi-san did upset and shocked with such a heart-breaking intensity that Misaki had struggled to bear the other boy's behaviour at lunch time. Now he was cheered up, he was an intolerable jackass, of course, but that was still better.

Kamijou and Nowaki who had already arrived, lifted several piles of wood each - Nowaki easily surpassing his senior in strength but choosing not to show it off clearly out of fear of Kamijou overdoing it trying to prove he was just as strong - and left. Misaki picked up only one pile of painted wood and struts and his knees nearly buckled, while Akihiko easily lifted two. He staggered slightly as he readjusted to the weight, while Misaki nearly walked directly into the door twice in his attempts to get out.

The school wasn't as quiet as it had been the previous weeks, but almost all of the other people were contained to classrooms and there was no one to encounter in the halls. This was just as well for Misaki's already bruised ego because after he had walked into two walls and a row of lockers, Akihiko asked him, "Perhaps you should just carry the fabric..."

"Shut up," spat Misaki, avoiding bouncing off another set of lockers by tilting himself in the opposite direction and bouncing off the other wall instead. "Otherwise I'll just leave you to carry all of these yourself."

"It wouldn't slow the process much," said Usagi-san mildly. For a moment Misaki was almost overcome with rage at being spoken down to like that, but just as suddenly he snapped back to himself and satisfied his now mild irritation by letting a set of double doors in the corridor slam shut right in Akihiko's handsome face.

The afternoon seemed to be one of mild bickering, perhaps a little less mild than usual. As they arranged themselves to construct the stalls, Misaki felt himself being afflicted with several more of those little blips of rage, all at silly comments and things that wouldn't have normally phased him. He tried to put it aside, but by the time the first stalls were fully constructed, his whole body felt uncomfortable, like there was a little layer of rage just seething under his skin.

And then the bloody lights began to flicker again.

* * *

While Nowaki had still been too shocked in the morning to be paying attention to his friends' behaviour, the absurdity of the situation in the later afternoon had begun to shine through. He found himself unnaturally exasperated at people he didn't normally experience this emotion with - Hiro-san in particular.

By the time the lights were flickering he had had to bite his tongue several times to avoid saying something that he would regret, and had watched Misaki do much of the same. The other four were less inhibited when it came to their annoyance and with the onset of the flickering, Hiro-san flung down his hammer and declared he hated everything and everyone in the room.

"That includes that fucking thing whether it's in the room right now or not!" he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and looking about as if daring anyone to make a comment.

It was Akihiko who broke the silence, perhaps a little unwisely when Hiro-san began to visibly seethe.

"Last time you provoked the thing, Hiroki, it ended badly for all of us," he said, a certain extra chilliness in his normally cool tones.

"I don't recall it ending badly," barked Hiroki. "It just turned up and stared at us for a bit. Nothing to worry about. You've just lost your edge ever since you blundered into that little bit of dark."

"It was not a 'little bit of dark'," hissed Akihiko rising from where he had been holding a partially built stall steady. The structure toppled immediately. "Perhaps you should understand these things before you start to run your mouth off about them."

Nowaki tried to say something and distract them both, but his words were drowned under Hiro-san's fearsome reply. Desperately he looked to Misaki for help, hoping that the younger boy could pull Akihiko away while Nowaki tackled Hiroki, but the little brunet was already occupied with trying to prevent Miyagi and Shinobu from verbally eviscerating each other as well. A wave of dread rolled over Nowaki, raising the little hairs on the back of his neck, and momentarily washing away the bubbling pit of anger in his stomach, only for it to be amplified when the fear rinsed away. But he had had many years of experience keeping the anger tamped down until it was appropriate to expel it, so he remained calm as the world fell to pieces around him.

Hiro-san and Akihiko were practically at each other's' throats by now, Hiroki shouting at the blond and Akihiko answering back in the coldest, most poisonous tone Nowaki ever had the displeasure to hear.

"You are just impossible," shouted Hiroki, evidently moments from lashing out and punching his friend in the face. Nowaki tried to catch the smaller boy's right hand to at least prevent Akihiko getting the full force of Hiroki's strongest blow, but was shaken off with no small amount of violence. "God, I wish I'd just fucking left you alone the first time I met you. You've made my life fucking miserable!"

The Usami boy hissed under his breath and stepped away, shaking his head in the most disparaging way Nowaki had ever seen a person manage. "I made your life miserable?! If I hadn't had met you, I would have been able to kill myself years ago and I wouldn't have found myself in this bloody mess. I would have fucking peace!" He swivelled on his heel and strode out of the hall, kicking the doors open so they ricocheted off the other side of the wall and slammed closed after him.

"Asshole!" screamed Hiroki, but his eyes were filling with tears and now Nowaki could see a little spark behind the angry glaze in his eyes that indicated something was incredibly wrong. Misaki was already running after Akihiko, so Nowaki didn't worry about the other boy doing something stupid out there alone, but now Hiroki was turning and heading to the opposite door, and Nowaki wasn't sure if he should follow and leave Shinobu and Miyagi alone when they were both screaming at each other too.

Shinobu solved this problem for him by suddenly bolting out of the door Akihiko and Misaki had already taken, and Nowaki took one look at the stormy look on Miyagi's face and decided he should deal with his own problems first. He ran out after Hiroki, struggling to follow the echoing footsteps amid the empty corridors an wondered what on earth had just happened to make them fall out so spectacularly.

It was only when the lights flickered again, that he realised it probably wasn't something entirely natural.

* * *

Akihiko didn't run. He would have, but the was such a maelstrom of mangled thoughts in his mind he wasn't sure he could have done so without tripping himself up.

It hurt, being inside his own brain at the moment. Nothing made sense, thoughts were skipping from one track to another, twisting into one another until it was all a great big knot of frustrations and anger and pain and grief. It felt like the way he got after prolonged fights with his mother, when he was no longer sure what was entirely real or not. The world was too quiet outside his own head, dark and silent and he wanted to scream just to free some of the tension inside him, but he could barely even breathe, his throat was clogged with things he had wanted to spit in Hiroki's face, more confessions that he had always longed to admit but had never managed it.

He sank down into a heap in a corridor, bracing his back against the wall and curling his knee up to his chest, so he could duck his head down and not have to see the lights flicker again. It was dawning on him that he had been shouting things he had not wanted to shout and was wondering what had broken the dam through. He had maintained some amount of control - he could shout at people just as well as Hiroki could, but somehow he had controlled that urge and keep his voice to the cold growl he normally used instead - but not truly enough.

He hadn't meant it really. Hiroki was his friend, his oldest and dearest, and yes, if Akihiko had never known him he would have tried to kill himself years before, but it never something he had ever truly begrudged his friend. He shuddered in remembrance of the early years of his life, filled with coldness and people that never truly cared. If Akihiko had not met Hiroki at aged ten, he would have just continue to assume all people were like that and grown up a shell of a normal person.

"Usagi-san!" Someone gasped for great and then small feet pattered over, warm hands touching his arms the unmistakable presence of Misaki in front of him. Akihiko forced himself to look up, to twist his face into something that resembled a smile. Misaki's shocked expression indicated it wasn't quite close enough and he dropped it immediately. To even pretend everything was all right when he mind was still that one big knot was nigh on impossible. "Usagi-san are you all right?" The boy's hands were on his face then, and the sheer kindness in those emerald green eyes made Akihiko's head spin.

"I've been better," he said, surprised by the raspy quality of his voice. Misaki scowled at him and squeezed his cheeks, telling him not to be so silly at a time like this.

"Do you want to go back?" asked Misaki quietly afterwards. "I'll stay out here with you if you don't, so don't think I'll abandon you."

"Just give me a minute." Akihiko dropped his head back, until the back of his skull smacked hollowly against the wall. He would go back and apologise and all would eventually become well again. It was difficult to live in each other's pockets like he and Hiroki had for so many years without having a few fallings out - although none as severe as this most recent one - so he knew how to make everything good. It was forgiving himself that was the trouble. He knew he had the potential to be deeply unkind, and he struggled intensely to keep it in check with those who he cared for. Losing control was a sign he didn't like the look of.

He rocked his head forward again and forced himself to his feet, Misaki stepping back out of the way hurriedly. He maintained a bit of distance, hovering without seeming like he was hovering, as Akihiko crossed to the other side of the corridor, where there was a series of ground floor windows. The deepness of the dark outside turned the glass into a mirror, and Akihiko met his own gaze reluctantly.

Above them, the lights clunked out. Misaki yelped and leapt to Akihiko's side, clutching for one of his arms with shaking fingers. Akihiko felt the shock himself, the bone crushing dread spearing up his spine, but his mind ached so hard he couldn't react.

The light came back on, and, for a second, in his reflection, Akihiko saw his own mother, smiling back at him wickedly. The illusion vanished swiftly, but the resemblance between himself and that hateful woman was stuck in Akihiko's mind and he could no longer look into his impromptu mirror without wanting to punch his reflection in its stupid face. Misaki asked him again if he'd like to go back to the gym and this time there was so much fear in his voice Akihiko was moved to agree.

He tried to say the words and it wasn't his voice that he spoke in, but his mother's cold, cruel tone deepened with his father's disinterested one. No matter how he tried change it, his voice was no longer his own, and he was seconds from turning back to the window and following through with the urge to punch his hateful, _stupid_ reflection when he heard the screams.

They weren't just in his head this time.

"Come on!" He grabbed Misaki's hand and bolted down the corridor, heading towards the racket despite the urge telling him to turn and run. These corridors were empty and there would be no one else to help if Akihiko didn't. They skidded around a corner and spotted the shadowy black cloud at the same time Akihiko realised he wasn't feeling sane in the slightest.

He pushed Misaki back around the corner and ordered him to go find Hiroki and Nowaki or Miyagi or anyone, and sprinted forward. The cloud was as cold and damp as he remembered, the stink of death once again stirring about his feet. He could no longer see his own has in front of his face, so he groped about helplessly until his fingers contacted something warm. Struggling to get a better grip, he found himself tugged in closer, tendrils curling about his ankles and squeezing. The warm things - fingers, hands, he realised now - gripped him fiercely and he pulled back with all of his strength, breaking the grip of the tendrils but not budging the hands.

"It hurts!" The person screamed again and Akihiko recognised the voice as Shinobu's. He bolstered himself once more and pulled again, but all he elicited was another scream and the thing that was holding the younger boy grumbled.

Something closed on his shoulder and he gasped, almost losing his grip on Shinobu's hands. Then another set of hands closed over his own, and Miyagi's face came just close enough that his features were visible in the gloom. Miyagi was stronger but even he couldn't budge the thing, and Shinobu's screams were getting so loud that he might actually manage to attract more attention and Akihiko couldn't see that ending anyway but with more people being terrorised by the fucking thing. He let go and ducked away and down, groping along the floor until he broke the edge of the cloud and found himself at a wall lined with windows. Outside, in the dark, was the main body of the thing: eyeless face intent on the centre of the dark cloud and one freakishly long arm stuck through the open window. It seemed to sense Akihiko's gaze upon its hideous form and turned its head towards him, opening a mouth he hadn't previously seen and baring what looked like an entire throatful of serrated fangs.

Akihiko's brain had long since decided this was too much for it to deal with, and his body reacted instinctively. He braved the reach of its arms and slammed the window shut with such force the glass cracked. The thing reeled back and let lose a bone chilling screech, wrenching part of its arm from the window frame. There was a thus beside Akihiko and the darkness in the corridor dissipated to show Shinobu lying on the floor, Miyagi crouched beside him. By the time Akihiko looked back to the window the thing was gone.

Feet clattered closer and Akihiko just about pried his gaze away from the window to see Nowaki and Hiroki running up. Misaki was following them closely, looking terrified. Akihiko staggered away from window and tried to walk over, but none of his limbs seemed to want to work anymore. He just saved himself from sinking to the floor with a hand braced on the windowsill, and then hands were helping him up. He heard Hiroki growl something about idiots close to his right ear and he rolled his head about to see his friend supporting his shoulder, looking pale and tearstained. Akihiko was going to say something lightly teasing so that Hiroki would know there were no hard feelings, but then a new voice rang out.

"What the hell is going on here?" It was a hated voice and Akihiko not terribly well balanced mind swung into dislike mode swiftly. He shrugged Hiroki's and Misaki's hands off and swivelled around to meet his brother's gaze. Haruhiko was looking them all over sceptically, and he met Akihiko's scowl with a frown of his own. "You're involved. I should have known."

"Piss off," said Akihiko sweetly. Haruhiko's scowl darkened and he stepped forward to poke Akihiko in the chest. This only served to worsen Akihiko's rapidly wobbling temper. "I mean it. What are you doing here anyway?"

"Some of us have work to do," sniffed Haruhiko, "Unlike you lot."

"I've never been more tempted to hit you in my life," said Akihiko, shivering suddenly. The adrenaline rush from fighting the monster was wearing off quickly, and he was returning back to that confused knot of emotions again. The impact had greatly lessened though, and at last his voice had returned to his normal one. It didn't make him like his brother any more though. "And I have hit you before, remember."

"You would resort to violence," growled Haruhiko, but he stepped back anyway. Perhaps there was something in his younger brother's eyes that had warned him off; Akihiko wasn't feeling able to cover his emotions as he normally would at the moment. "You've made a mess there. You should probably clean it up, lest someone reports who made it."

"Fuck you," said Akihiko, turning away. Miyagi had hauled Shinobu to his feet finally, but there was still a pool of black fluid on the floor. It reflected the returned light in an oily fashion, and stirred in a lazy way when footsteps disturbed it. Haruhiko had clearly had enough of tormenting his brother - he found it less interesting, Akihiko had long since discovered, if there was no one nearby to get the younger boy in trouble with - and headed off, with a derisive snort.

Nowaki also headed off, disappeared into a nearby doorway and returned with a roll of paper towels and a basin. He mopped up the spill at arms' length, wringing the fluid into the basin and finally standing up with a half full container of slime.

"Is this from the thing?" He asked, the liquid in the basin sloshing gently as his hands shook. Akihiko nodded his head distantly - Hiroki had moved back to hover over him again and he was more distracted with how he was going to apologise. "We should take this away. I don't want it to ambush some innocent bystander if we pour it down a sink or something."

They went back to the technology classroom for want of anywhere else to go, and shut the doors tightly. Nowaki left the basin on a workbench, and Akihiko gently freed himself from Hiroki's supportive grip and clambered onto another desk to block off the smoke detectors.

"What are you doing?" asked Hiroki, sounding more bemused than irritated for once. Akihiko grinned down at him and skipped across to another desk to block the other detector off as well. After that was done, he jumped down to the ground and whipped out his pack of cigarettes. "Are you serious?" sighed Hiroki.

"It's either this or I think my head my brain might explode." Akihiko lit up his first cigarette and nearly collapsed in delight as the first burst of nicotine struck his system. "Hiroki, about earlier..?"

"No," said Hiroki holding up a hand. "It wasn't us. Nowaki figured it out - when the thing was lurking about his house yesterday, all the children there were getting antsy. It must have affected us the same way. I said things I didn't mean and definitely didn't want to say. Didn't you feel strange?"

"I always feel strange," said Akihiko, drawing hard on his cigarette again and watching as Miyagi and Misaki struggled to calm the still whimpering Shinobu. He was glad Misaki wasn't fussing over him right then; he didn't think he could take even the slightest bolt of kindness right now without having to be violently ill over someone. "But I felt stranger than normal, certainly."

He reached out sideways and tapped his cigarette ash off without really intending to, hand finding a useful edge instinctively. A blaze of heat washed over his hand and he snatched the offending limb away just as bright crimson flame exploded from the basin, the oily goo catching light with explosive ferocity.

They stared as it burnt, until the last of the fluid was gone and the basin was slowly collapsing in on itself like a depressed soufflé.

"Would you look at that?" Akihiko grinned, not entirely sanely. He could just sense the pieces sliding into place; he just needed a little time to slot them together into a sensible narrative. Someone took the smouldering remains of the basin, having some trouble prying the melted pieces from the table top, and dropped it into the sink to cool it, and Akihiko sucked another breath in of his cigarette. He hissed the smoke out and began to talk.

* * *

**I'm cruel!** You'll find out the plan eventually. Just not today! You've had enough action in this chapter after all! (I've had enough action in this chapter, more than anything else…)

And any typos/errors/etc will be fixed eventually. This one might be a bit worse in that respect - I typed it in a program with predictive texting, which always ends well...


	9. One Day

**Tuesday 30****th**** October**

* * *

Most of the preparation the next day involved Akihiko and Miyagi producing plastic bags full of lighters and matches at lunch and pushing samples of each into everyone's hands.

"You two have some serious smoking problems," said Hiroki, stealing a few extra lighters and stuffing them into his pockets hurriedly. No one else was paying attention to their little table in the canteen anymore – they had initially been a bit of a novelty at the start, with the peculiar mix of people, but it had worn off swiftly – but Hiroki didn't think it was a good idea to get caught carrying such a hefty mix of potentially arsonist material anyway. He could just imagine the uproar.

"The man at the shop was exceptionally suspicious," said Akihiko, tapping his own blazer pocket where Hiroki knew the boy's cigarettes lived. It bulged suspiciously, indicating that Akihiko had probably stocked up on those too while he was in the shop. "But he likes me so he gave me a few extra on the proviso that I try not to burn anything down."

"This is going to end so badly," said Misaki, tucking his lighter into an inner pocket. His blazer was slightly too big for him, but his guilt was written large on his face instead. He and Nowaki had been unsure of the plan when Akihiko had introduced it, even though they saw the need to implement it they lacked what Hiroki thought of as the killer instinct. He knew he possessed it, and that the scrappy little Shinobu had it in gallons. Miyagi, underneath his idiotic exterior, had a sharp edge and Akihiko was simply a little nuts. The events of yesterday had stripped away a bit of the blond's natural defences and left him especially difficult to deal with, although Hiroki was trying to be a bit nicer about it because of the fight they'd gotten into.

"We all know what we do if we see it?" said Miyagi. He had his arm cast over the back of Shinobu's chair, in a mildly possessive, protective gesture. Shinobu still looked terrible as well – grey face and with bruises on his wrists and a matching circular set on his ankles that he had described with a choked voice – but he had bolstered his spine with the delivery of their weapons and now sat there with a mild scowl on his face, listening intently.

A wave of agreement went around the room and Miyagi nodded happily. "Good. I don't think we'll be in danger until late afternoon, early evening. Remember there'll be more people around tonight and we'll be staying later as well, so be careful of anyone else finding out."

Another wave of agreement.

"And stick with someone at all times! I don't want another yesterday happening!" He rattled his fingers on the table, and looked to Akihiko. "You're really sure about this, Akihiko?"

"Can you come up with a better idea?" Akihiko blinked slowly and tapped his cigarette pocket again, probably craving to light one up. He'd had several on the walk in in the morning, and had slipped outside mid-morning to have another by the smell of him.

"Well, we don't have any other choice," said Miyagi.

* * *

_They had stared at Akihiko as he had purred out a smoke laden breath and started to rumble his theory. _

"_When have we see this thing? When it's been dark. It turns the lights out before it even appears. I spotted it waiting outside my window in the evening. Miyagi, when did you see it?"_

"_Evening time," Miyagi had said, a thoughtful look dawning on his face. Hiroki struggled to follow along, mildly peeved he hadn't managed to catch up before the older boy. _

"_I saw it at midday," said Nowaki, apologetically. _

"_Where was it standing?" Akihiko had brandished his cigarette like a conductor's baton, stabbing it out. _

"_Across the road." Nowaki had paused and then added. "In the shadows…"_

"_Precisely." Akihiko had subsided, grinning sharply. _

"_It stepped into the light though. And we've seen it in the light as well. On Thursday and Friday too."_

"_It can stay out briefly, but it doesn't like to." Akihiko had puffed another lungful of smoke out. "And have you noticed what it associates with?"_

"_No, just tell us!" Hiroki had exclaimed. Akihiko had shot him a brief look for ruining his narrative and continued as if there had been no outburst. _

"_It came out of taps twice. It stinks of rotting and stagnant water. It reduces itself to liquid when you damage it!" Akihiko had been more animated than Hiroki had seen him for a while. "It associates with water. And what beats water? What beats darkness?"_

_Everyone had been silent for a long time, before, to Hiroki's surprise it had been Misaki who spoke. The boy's eyes had been lit up with the realisation. _

"_Fire," he had said. _

_It hadn't been until Akihiko had opened his lighter and smiled into the flame, that Hiroki had actually considered his friend might have lost a bit of his mind in this terrifying process. _

"_Fire," Akihiko had said, flicking his thumb again so the lighter sparked and lit once more. "And if it reacts the way that its remains did…"_

_Hiroki had felt his own face split into a wicked smile as well. This could be their salvation.  
_

* * *

The stalls still needed to be finished – they had forgotten about the remains in after the events of last night and had only managed to tidy away their mess before heading home – and they worked hard for the two hours of detention.

Akihiko wasn't one for physical labour - it was never something he needed to do, being a Usami – but he did his best to show willing. This mostly meant holding things as Misaki pieced them together, or hammering what he was told to hammer. By the end of the two hours, both his thumbs were bruised, he had splinters and cuts all over his hands and he was so intensely on edge he jumped every time someone came in to see if their stall had been finished. While he couldn't say he was much of a help, he was proud that he wasn't an entire hindrance.

In the end, they finished all of them, putting down hammers and nails and grinning at each other triumphantly. However there was little rest for the wicked – Miyagi and Hiroki had to organise the literature club stall, and Nowaki and Shinobu had to heft the baseball stall between them to get it out of the hall and to the outside concourse. Akihiko didn't envy any of them – most of the stall were being set up outside, and even in the now bright spotlights around the playground, the dark was suspiciously close.

Nothing had happened so far. That made Akihiko much more nervous.

He had no club to attend and help organise for; sometimes he went to the literary club with Hiroki, just for the sake of it, but there was no real attraction for him in any of the groups. Instead he followed Misaki to the cooking room that the cookery club was preparing in. Firmly, Misaki stopped him from lurking in and making a nuisance of himself, telling him to go annoy Hiroki instead. Akihiko paused in the corridor outside the room and seriously thought about it – he didn't want to be standing out here alone, in the muffled quiet and with a row of dark windows at the bottom of the hallway. But Misaki would be alone if Akihiko went, and that was such a terrible thought he nearly bit through his lip. While there were others in the room, none of them knew about the thing and that was nearly as bad as being alone.

Akihiko sat down against the opposite wall and flicked out his lighter. His was only half full – he'd upped his cigarette intake lately – and he wondered if he should have taken another. But the thing's remains had seemed intensely flammable, lighting with only a touch of hot ash, so he would probably be fine, right?

"Akihiko-kun!"

Dropping the lighter and scrabbling for it briefly, Akihiko looked up to find two girls advancing down the corridor towards him. He tucked the lighter away and stood up.

"Aikawa-senpai," he smiled at the girl and his grin only flickered slightly when he recognised the other. "Kajiwara-chan."

Kajiwara Minami was a petite young lady, and Akihiko, as gay as he was, had enough of his father's blood in him to appreciate a pretty girl. He understood why Takahashi Takahiro would be attracted to her, and while it didn't matter so much to him anymore, it still rankled a bit.

"Please, call me Minami," said the brunette and Akihiko did his best not to flinch when the lights flickered above them. "Oh, the lights in this school are dreadful!"

"You're not scared of the dark?" asked Aikawa-senpai, nudging her friend cheekily with an elbow.

"Don't be silly!" laughed Minami. "We went to that haunted house last week remember?" She looked up at Akihiko and smiled at him, encouraging him to join in with the fun. "Aikawa-senpai spent the entire time clinging to my elbow!"

"Her bark's worse than her bite," said Akihiko, wincing when the lights flashed again. His ears were straining for the sound of footsteps again, his eyes focused on the windows at the end of the corridor for the darkening of the night that indicated the monster was approaching.

"The pair of you, bullying your senior!" Aikawa-senpai was Miyagi's year, while Minami was Akihiko's: nevertheless the girls were best friends and a small force to be reckoned with. Akihiko had always liked Aikawa-senpai in some small way – she was good conversation and had a deep interest in literature as well. Minami, he supposed, was probably not any worse – she was perfectly lovely and didn't treat him like a toy or a doll or another pretty thing like a lot of the girls did. As he decided that he wouldn't hate her, a flash of something dragged his attention to the windows again.

Something dark had moved out there. Akihiko's hand returned to his blazer pocket.

"Waiting for Misaki-kun, eh?" Aikawa-senpai dug her sharp elbow into his ribs and he gasped, nerves twanging sharply. She mistook his jerk for shock that she had realised and cackled easily. Minami was smiling wickedly as Akihiko stared at them. "I think you two are really cute together."

"Ha ha," said Akihiko. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "I forgot you were rabid about gay men."

"Double the fun," said Aikawa-senpai. Beside her Minami burst into hysterical cackles and Akihiko forced himself to smile along. "So you really are..?"

"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell." Akihiko mustered all his reserves of his charisma and flashed the girls a smile that made them both blush.

"Bathroom!" twittered Aikawa-senpai. "We'll talk to you later, Akihiko-kun!"

"I can't wait," growled Akihiko, sinking back down to the ground as they clipped away. Girls exasperated him, and not in that fun way that indicated he would eventually find them attractive. Boys were much easier.

His eyes were dragged back to the windows. Nothing was moving anymore, but his mind returned to the thoughts that had been plaguing him before Aikawa and Minami had showed up. Yes, he hadn't seen the monster at all today and it makes him nervous. He knew he hurt it yesterday – that scream couldn't have been mistaken for anything else but pain, and he knew it knew who hurt it, and it had already proved itself capable of differentiating between people, when it hunted them out and followed them home. Would it come for him? Would it stick to preying on Shinobu? Was there a risk it would go for Misaki? Perhaps it liked victims small? Then again, if, as Akihiko had suspected quite some time ago, if it had dragged Igarashi-sensei off to its lair and consumed him, then that didn't make sense.

Puzzling things out like this soothed the other thoughts in his head – they had been thrumming about his mind like a band saw since last night. Cigarettes had pacified the anxiety somewhat, but it had been a long time since he'd last had one.

Just as he was considering heading outside and finding a quiet spot in the light to smoke, a muffled scream rang out. Terror made him jerk, and he looked about, trying to locate the source. Was it Misaki's classroom? No, definitely not – people were already poking their heads out of the door anxiously. Akihiko met Misaki's gaze and then realised who it was who was screaming.

One of the girls.

He bolted, running down the corridor and slipped around the corner, maintaining his balance by bouncing off a wall. The sense of mind bending dread worsened as he approached the girls' bathroom, but he refused to let it stop him.

The door resisted the impact he threw against it, and he had to take a step back and throw himself at it again, bruising his shoulder in the process. Inside the room was pitch black and and gloomy, stinking and cold. He tripped over a sprawled form inside the door and he reached out, hoping he wasn't going to grab any embarrassing parts of female anatomy, and dragged a lighter body up.

Minami was bleeding heavily from a wound to her head, blood smeared down her face and the door. Akihiko met her terrified, muzzy gaze and whipped around, pushing her out through the door unceremoniously. He turned back into the gloom and stepped forward, crashing into a line of sinks and then bouncing off a row of stalls instead.

And then he blundered directly into something that tried to clutch him. It wasn't entirely normal, sticky and clutching and covered in tendrils and Akihiko punched it as hard as he could.

Teeth closed on his hand, and he lashed out with the other hand, feeling his fist smack against hard fangs. Something snapped – whether it was in his hand or one of the thing's teeth he wasn't sure – but he punched again, and again, and again, and then he was released and able to stagger back. His feet slipped from under him, and he sprawled onto the floor, smacking his head hard on a sink as he fell. His wounded hand – already throbbing with a heat that indicated the monster hadn't been brushing its teeth lately – fumbled clumsily in his blazer and his thumb struggled to flick the wheel of his lighter.

The lighter sparked, but refused to light. Akihiko's thumb was too mangled to make a better attempt at it, but what other option was there? The thing was reaching for him – one arm longer than the other, where it was clearly regenerating the limb Akihiko had chopped off yesterday – and there was no escape.

Someone threw the door open and threw an entire packet of matches into the room. The little ball of fire bounced towards the thing, and the thing struck out wildly one last time, catching Akihiko a blow across the cheek and laying him out flat. There was a wet gurgling sound and the air above him began to clear of the deep darkness that was the creature's aura. Akihiko stayed very still for a few moments, just to reassure himself that nothing was going to bite him, and then sat up.

The floor was covered in blood, and Aikawa-senpai was sprawled in the corner, eyes closed and face pale. For a heart-stopping second , Akihiko thought she might be dead, but he crawled over to her and groped about her neck for a pulse. The throb there was strong, if fast, and her breath puffed lightly on his cheek, so he turned his attention elsewhere.

"Help?" he suggested, hoping the person who had lobbed the matches in was still outside. Seconds later, Misaki burst in and stopped dead. "This is going to be fun to explain," said Akihiko, tucking his lighter back into a pocket. Misaki's expression only served to agree with him.

* * *

Misaki sat in silence in front of the vice-principal and tried not to look too guilty. Beside him, a blood-stained Akihiko was lying like a champion, well-bandaged right hand tucked in a makeshift sling against his chest.

The vice-principal was a beefy man, built along the line of Igarashi-sensei but with a few more teaching skills, and he didn't look particularly moved by the state of the students in front of him. He focused intensely on Akihiko as he spoke, but this didn't seem to put the boy off in the slightest.

Misaki had summoned all his courage, burst into the girls' bathroom – leaving Minami to clutch her head outside and cry – and found the fight was long over. Akihiko's right hand had been a mangled mess, and Aikawa-senpai had been very much unconscious; the box of matches still burnt like a little beacon amid the carnage. Misaki had doused the box with handfuls of water from the sink and then chucked the smouldering remains into a rather ruined looking toilet stall. The toilet itself was sfine, but a lower portion of the wall was in pieces, displaying an array of now leaking pipes beyond.

He snapped back to the present time as Akihiko finished his tale.

The vice-principal shifted slowly in his chair, and then said, "You mean to say that a rat did this?"

"Yes, sir."

"A rat?"

"Or some sort of animal. I just saw the teeth and then it ran away."

"Through the wall?"

"It must have chewed its way through," said Akihiko, as honestly as Misaki had ever heard a person speak. As of now, it would be their testimony standing alone – Aikawa-senpai and Minami had already been taken to the hospital. It was bad luck that there were still plenty of teachers in the school this late to supervise the last minute prep for the Halloween festival – if this had happened any other day, they might have got away without such close questioning.

"Right." The man sat back in his chair and transferred his gaze to Misaki. "Takahashi, do you agree with this?"

"I didn't see much," he said, nervously, hoping that the tremor in his voice would be explained by the carnage that had been wrought instead of his lies. "I just saw Minami lying in the corridor and then heard Akihiko calling for help."

The vice-principal rubbed his forehead with a big hand and said, "So you, Usami, hear screams and rush off to be the hero. You burst into the girls' toilets, and find Kajiwara-chan sprawled on the floor bleeding from the head, and Aikawa-chan unconscious beside the sinks. They are being menaced by a large rat…" He sighed and shook his head. "Which then proceeded to maul you in a most spectacular fashion before Takahashi burst in and scared it off."

"Essentially yes," said Akihiko.

"And I wouldn't believe any of that wild story, Usami, except for the wounds on your hand." He glanced up and grimaced as he added, "And your face."

Misaki got the sneaking suspicion the man was busy calculating how much he was going to have to pay out to keep the Usami family sweet.

"Can't explain those otherwise," said Akihiko, smiling in a brittle fashion.

"Huh." The vice-principal shook his head again, and stood up to usher them out. "Fine. Until we talk to Kajiwara-chan and Aikawa-chan, I shall assume your story to be true. We've called your home, Usami; there's a limo coming around to take you to the doctor's. Takahashi, the school will pay for a taxi to take you home. And both of you?"

They drew to an anxious halt, Misaki's hand millimetres from getting to the door handle.

"Tell no one about this. This Halloween event is important to the student body, and I won't have it ruined over a… rat."

"Our mouths are sealed," said Akihiko, firmly. He elbowed Misaki in the ribs and the younger boy echoed the sentiment and let them out of the office.

They padded down to the front doors in silence, so Akihiko could take a position outside and beg Misaki to light a cigarette for him with sad, blue eyes. Ever a sucker, Misaki obliged, grimacing at the stink of burning tobacco that arose from the lit smoke.

"A rat?" he asked after a minute of watching the evening breeze play with Akihiko's hair. A chunk of the silvery blonde strands were gummed down with blood and one of his eyes was partially swollen closed.

"Best thing I could think of. I'm not taking the fall, especially not when I've got an array of wounds like this." He twitched his bandaged hand and Misaki had to look away – the monster had mangled the limb nastily enough to bare tendons and ligaments and already the bandage was soaked through with blood. Misaki had found it telling that the less well injured girls had been given an ambulance ride to care, but Akihiko, bleeding heavily from hand and face, had to wait for his family to offer him help. "I don't think Aikawa or Minami are going to remember any of that, to be honest."

"I wish I could forget it," said Misaki. He could see the lights of a car drawing closer, and squinted in order to see a triangle of light on top of the roof. "My taxi's here. I'll stay until your limo gets here?"

"Go home," said Akihiko softly, bending his head slightly to give Misaki a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Takahiro will be worried, and you look like death warmed over."

"Says you, the man who's bleeding everywhere!" Misaki looked about, trying to judge the depth of the darkness around them. It wasn't the terrifying abyssal darkness that the monster summoned, but the normal gloom of night. He could hear happy voices echoing from the back of the school still, including Kamijou's fearsome shouting, and the atmosphere was clear and calm. "I don't want to go," said Misaki, more quietly. "I didn't do much to help while you were in there…"

"You threw the matches in," said Akihiko, puffing on his cigarette again. "If you hadn't had done that, I would possibly be missing a lot more of my face." He nodded towards the driveway, as a silken engine purred closer and stubbed out his cigarette against the wall. "And there's my ride."

"You'll be all right?" Misaki shadowed the boy across the carpark, to the flanks of the obnoxiously yellow taxi and the gleaming black of the limo. "I could come to the hospital with you? Oh!" Like an afterthought he remembered the rest of the group, probably still preparing at the back of the school. "I should tell the others!"

"Misaki," purred Akihiko, the half of his face that was mobile twisting into a wry smile. "Don't _worry_. Hiroki will suppose I left to mess around with you."

"Usagi-san," whined Misaki, suddenly too tired to play these games anymore. He felt like a stroppy little child – he wasn't the one still losing blood, and he wasn't the one that had battled the monster off, but he was the one doing all of the complaining and Akihiko was still capable of teasing him. It wasn't fair…

Just before the Usami butler got out of the car, Akihiko leant in to whisper in Misaki's ear. "Thank you for worrying about me." Misaki's heart nearly leapt out of his chest and he stumbled back into the side of the taxi. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye," warbled Misaki, watching as the butler fussed over getting Usagi-san into the car. The limo pulled away much faster than it had arrived and Misaki fumbled his way into the taxi's back seats. He gave the driver his address, and bowed his head into his hands. The thing had nearly killed three people today.

And it wasn't even Halloween yet.

* * *

**Oh Em Gee**…. This took really longer than I wanted to write… And I've noticed I do a lot of Akihiko's POV, more than strictly is his fair share. Oh well, don't care – he's my fave. (It's past my bedtime, can you tell yet?)


	10. Halloween

**Wednesday 31****st**** October**

* * *

The Halloween event started as soon as school ended, and by the time the sun had set was in full swing, with students and other children and teenagers hanging around and having fun. Spotlights focused full beams on the little streets of stalls, and the night was cool but not rainy.

Hiroki was in charge of shooing trembling girls and boys away from the back of the literature club's haunted house structure. Miyagi was around the front trying to lure people in, while across the way Misaki was helping the cookery club ply bystanders with sweets and Halloween related treats. Hiroki paused from attempting to get rid of a particularly obstinate crowd of first years and wandered around the back of the structure. Here he had an excellent view of the baseball club's set up, which involved a coconut shy type thing, and Nowaki in his uniform. Shinobu was about there somewhere as well, but Hiroki only had eyes for the tall boy and the trousers he was wearing. And perhaps the way the shirt sleeves strained against an impressive set of biceps – Nowaki had the internal heating power of a radiator, and the cold didn't seem to bother him.

At the rear of the haunted house structure, there were a row of crates to help stabilise the wall, and one person had stolen one of them to use as an impromptu seat. A cigarette glowed in front of a pale face and Hiroki rolled his eyes and padded over to accompany Akihiko in looking out into the night.

"I still think you should have stayed at home," he said, kicking Akihiko's feet off another crate and sitting on it himself. "Your face is a nightmare to look at right now."

Akihiko's face was indeed a sight; his left cheek one giant welt of scratches from his jawline to his hairline, eye bruised puffily and lip curled up in a snarl from the tautness of the skin. His right arm was also bandaged up in a hefty looking bandage from the elbow to the tips of his fingers, tucked up in a sling against his chest. Hiroki had not had a chance to look at the wound he had sustained, but if Takahashi's description was anything to go by then he was glad of that fact.

"Why do you think I'm staying back here?" growled Akihiko, taking the cigarette from his mouth with his non-dominant hand and nearly dropping it. It didn't help that was obviously dosed to the gills on painkillers and antibiotics and no longer appeared to be on the right planet anymore.

"I thought you might be hunting out that thing again, because you've clearly mistaken yourself for some sort of hero," said Hiroki snidely. This was now the second time Akihiko had blundered his way into fighting the thing, and Hiroki was starting to worry that maybe he did still have that death wish. Mostly, though, he was annoyed that Akihiko had not thought to tell him yesterday what had happened, and Hiroki had worried through the night until the Usami limo had pulled up at their normal meeting spot and Hiroki had discovered the blond boy within.

While Akihiko was out of his mind on painkillers, he wasn't stupid, especially when dealing with Hiroki's moods. He puffed on his cigarette again and fixed the brunette with a slightly fuzzy gaze. "I did say I was sorry for not telling you, didn't I?"

Blushing with rage that he was so easy to figure out, Hiroki growled that yes he had apologised and yes it was mostly all forgiven.

"It's the principle of the thing!" he added, irritably fumbling through his pockets to check his lighter was still there. "You could have been dead somewhere, and I never would have known."

"Yes, yes," said Akihiko, "And I _am_ sorry. I wasn't thinking entirely straight after my near death experience." He laughed sourly. "I even had a conversation with my father in the hospital that involved neither of us being unpleasant."

"God, you must have been out of it," said Hiroki, not being completely sarcastic.

"He was incredibly bemused when I told him I was coming into school today." Akihiko stubbed out the end of his smoke and stretched carefully, sparing his right arm as much movement as he could. "But I insisted."

Hiroki stood up and shook his head. "You're insane. You could have stayed at home and been safe, you know."

"And miss the fun?" Akihiko patted his coat pocket, where his cigarettes and lighter were tucked close to his chest. "Not on your life."

Not deigning to answer, Hiroki padded back around the back of the haunted house and took up his position silently, severely surprising a sextet of older girls and their younger sisters with his sudden appearance. As they took off, Hiroki let his mind wander again. Akihiko would have been much safer at his home, even if the thing did know where he lived, as the school was a hive of potential prey, most of them oblivious. Out of his mind on pills and with one hand crippled, Akihiko wasn't going to be much use to their attempts to defeat the monster. On the other hand, they really needed all the help they could get…

Hiroki sighed lugubriously; yesterday he had been full of get up and go to defeat the creature, but now… They had seen what it could do if it wanted to, and it had been getting gradually more daring and vicious as time had gone on. And now was Halloween of all days.

"Hiro-san?" A cheerful voice broke his reverie and he started, finding himself staring into someone's broad chest. He glared up and found himself looking at Nowaki.

The biceps were even better up close. The trousers weren't too shabby either, and Hiroki's palms began to itch at that thought.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" he exclaimed, punching the taller boy on the shoulder lightly, and scowling when Nowaki stepped back, laughing and clutching the area like he had been wounded.

"I didn't really sneak up on you, Hiro-san," said Nowaki, finally controlling himself and adjusting the fit of his baseball cap. "I asked Miyagi where you were."

Hiroki looked at the direct line of sight he had to the older boy, waiting at the entrance to the haunted house, and scowled even deeper. "Whatever. What did you want?"

"I wanted to know if you wanted to have a wander around? I haven't seen much of the other stalls, and it looks like a fun night. Plus, Misaki's selling another batch of those caramel apple things and I thought you might like one."

"I can buy my own sweets!" grumbled Hiroki, but he signalled to Miyagi that he was taking a break anyway.

"Oi, wait! You just took a bloody break!" called Miyagi behind him, as Hiroki walked away.

"Get Akihiko to do it instead. He's hiding behind the stalls and he looks like a horror show already – he'll fit right in!" Hiroki cackled to himself as Miyagi's face lit up with the idea, and then towed Nowaki away before Akihiko could find out who ratted him out.

* * *

They wandered the festival, dandering from stall to stall, wandering inside to the gym hall to check out some of the attractions there as well. By the time they came back out again, one of the spotlights had been switched off, and Hiro-san seemed to find this worrying.

Nowaki was less concerned – he'd heard some of the other clubs complaining the bright light was ruining the atmosphere – and tried to calm his boyfriend down, but Hiro-san was having none of it and marched them back towards the haunted house.

Hiro-san was in front, storming through the crowd with a determined set to his shoulders, and Nowaki was shouldering through the crush of people with more difficulty despite his greater size. Just metres from the haunted house, where Akihiko was now terrifying people into leaving by dint of his face alone, the other spotlights died.

Screams rang out across the campus grounds, and Nowaki tried to lunge forward, to grab Hiro-san and keep him safe, but the crowd was too thick, people pushing him back. The stink of death rose to his nostrils again, and he pushed harder, cold tendrils looping about his arms.

A particularly loud shout rang out near him, the sound deadened by the gloom, and Nowaki's heart sank to beneath his shoes. It was Hiro-san, yelling at something to leave him be, hysterical anger in his voice. Nowaki broke out of the crowd by pushing sideways and found himself free of the worse of the gloom. The bulk of it rose up in front of him, the deep dark centre where the monster stood towering above the haunted house, and Nowaki took a deep breath and aimed for it.

The crowd was flooding away from the darkness, and Nowaki struggled a bit against the tide but he made good headway, until , suddenly, the darkness wasn't there anymore.

And neither was Hiro-san.

Nowaki stopped in his tracks, not able to believe what he was seeing. Had Hiro-san fallen? Was he hiding behind something? Had… Had it taken him?

A hand grabbed his arm, and he span around to see Akihiko, face set grimly.

"Come on!" He barked. "Miyagi's following, but we can't let it get too far ahead!"

Nowaki was wrenched through the crowd of people, and was pulled out into the gloom of the night. They were running across the sports pitches as the spotlights chunked on again behind them, but little of the light reached them and it was hard to prevent from turning an ankle on the turf.

Presently, Akihiko slowed and let go of Nowaki's arm. The younger boy could hear him cursing quietly, panting thickly. Nowaki wasn't feeling as winded as that, and was ready to rush off again.

"Why are we stopping?" he demanded, and Akihiko gave an exasperated growl.

"Shut up and listen," he hissed.

Nowaki did as he was told. The distant sound of the festival getting back to normal was the loudest noise, but if he strained, there was a tinny set of shouts from in front of them. He caught Akihiko's arm, and pulled the other boy forward, heading towards the shouting and hoping it was the right direction.

A spot of light flickered up and Nowaki headed towards it like a moth to a flame, stumbling at the last moment as they came across the edge of the pitches and found themselves climbing a slight slope to the edge of the wood.

Miyagi's face was illuminated by the flickering glow from his lighter; he looked pensive and pale.

"It went in there." He nodded towards the forest. "I don't know how we'll find it in all of those trees."

Another shout rang out, this one pained and terrified. Nowaki nearly bolted into the wood, but Akihiko's restraining hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Don't be stupid," he snapped, the trembling light making his eyes look milky and distant. "Use your fucking brain… There is a stream that runs through this forest."

"And?!" Nowaki tried to shrug Akihiko's hand off, but the fingers squeezed tighter.

"The thing stays near water!" Akihiko momentarily lost his temper and barked the words out. "Where the fuck do you think it's going to go?"

"You know the way?" demanded Miyagi.

"Follow me."

They wound into the forest, Akihiko moving as quickly as possibly through the trees. More shouts rang out, but they were much closer this time, and no one held him back when Nowaki snapped and ran forward.

He tripped and rolled headlong down a sharp slope, knocking his shoulder against a tree root and splashing face down in the stream. Immediately, dark coldness swirled over him and he thrashed his way up, reaching into his trouser pocket and hoping the lighter wasn't damaged. The thing was already turning around from its victim, looming down over him and Nowaki flicker the wheel clumsily and shouted with triumph when the mechanism sparked.

There was no flame though.

Skeletal hands were already reaching out and Akihiko and Miyagi were nowhere to be seen. Nowaki lobbed the lighter at it, laughing when it recoiled. He groped about for anything else to throw, and bombarded it with a few river pebbles and what had felt like a stick.

When his hand came across the running shoe with the foot still inside, he realised that had not been a stick at all. He dropped his grisly find in horror, body freezing with disgust and shock. The thing resuming its looming, starting to open that great mouth, chock full of teeth, and Nowaki couldn't take his eyes off the littering of bones and clothes he had landed himself in.

"Nowaki!" He brought his eyes up from a macabrely grinning skull, and saw Miyagi leap midway into the stream, wielding a broken branch like a bat. Akihiko splashed in seconds later, hauling Hiro-san up with one clumsy arm and trying to drag him away.

Hiro-san! Nowaki had forgotten! He shoved his emotions away brusquely and rolled over clawing his way up the bank and looping around a tree to go to Akihiko's assistance. Hiro-san was blood stained and unconscious, but he was breathing still; Nowaki helped Akihiko haul the smaller boy up the bank and then threw him over his shoulder.

"Miyagi! Run, now!" Akihiko shouted, pushing Nowaki on. "Do not stop!" he hissed for Nowaki to hear. "Just head for the school. Get him inside. That's all that matters right now."

Nowaki ran off, struggling to get through the forest with the ease that Akihiko had shown earlier. Eventually though he broke through to the open ground and the welcome sight of the lit up school beyond. Now he really began to run, even as his shoulder ached and his legs throbbed. Through the pounding in his ears, he distantly heard footsteps running after him, but he didn't turn to see who had made it out. He just ran.

* * *

It had been fifteen minutes since the lights had died and the thing had showed itself. Since then, Shinobu had seen no sign of Miyagi, Akihiko, Nowaki or Hiroki, and was feeling intensely worried. He had left his baseball club and crossed to Misaki, who was also twittering away with anxiety.

The crowd had been swarming about anxiously after the shock, but had now settled down and seemed to assume the light dying had been somehow planned. Only Shinobu and Misaki knew the truth.

Suddenly, out of breath and bizarrely soaked, Akihiko appeared from behind the haunted house. He ignored Isaka's cry for attention – he and Asahina had taken over control when Miyagi, Hiroki and Akihiko had disappeared – and elbowed his way through the crowd.

"We need to get out of here," he said. "We've stolen Hiroki back from it, but I think it's pissed off."

To prove his point, one of the spotlights exploded.

Akihiko didn't wait, and grabbed both younger boy's hands, dragging them towards the school and into the corridors. In the cold fluorescent lights, he looked like a skeleton, shadows cast down over his eyes and hollowing out under his cheekbones. His clothes clung to him damply and his hands were like blocks of ice.

"What happened?" squeaked Shinobu as they were dragged along. Akihiko was casting wild eyes looks around each corner, eyeing the windows suspiciously. They were simply weaving through the corridors, glancing down each of them in turn. "Akihiko!"

"It took Hiroki, we got him back. There was a stream involved. Go, quickly!" He peered around another corner and pushed them around without any ceremony. Miyagi, Nowaki and a sprawled form were half way down the hallway and the other three ran to join them.

Nowaki and Miyagi were panting heavily – so was Akihiko, now that Shinobu took the time to notice – and crouching over the sprawled form. It was Hiroki, and he looked like he had been chewed on. Shinobu swallowed the bile that crawled up from his stomach and crossed over to see if he could be of any help.

"We need to tell the ones outside," said Nowaki, "We shouldn't have come in here."

"And what do you expect us to accomplish out there? We'd lead it to more prey. If it focuses on us, then they are safe!"

"Someone died because of that thing!" Nowaki shouted suddenly, looking up from Hiroki. "It was Igarashi-sensei, I saw his _bones_!"

"And what can we do now?" snapped Akihiko, wiping his mouth where blood had trickled to the corner of his lips. His face wounds were reopened and weeping gruesomely. "It's following us, it's angry and you still know damn well no one is going to believe us! I won't lead the wolf into a flock of dozy sheep!"

Darkness was already swirling at the end of the corridor. Shinobu could see it spooling out of light fittings and cracks in the walls, but no one seemed to notice.

"Hiro-san is badly hurt! This is stupid!"

"I know," shouted Akihiko back, cuffing his cheek again and hissing as he rubbed too hard. "But if we can lure it to the other side of the school then we might have a chance." He turned to Misaki and asked for his lighter.

"Uh…" Misaki patted his pockets hopelessly, and produced a packet of matches instead. "Um." He looked distraught that he had misplaced the lighter, but Akihiko took the matches gratefully anyway.

"We'll go to the technology room again," said Miyagi, helping Nowaki haul Hiroki into his arms.

There was a bone trembling rumbling from down the corridor, and then the ceiling fell in.

* * *

Miyagi watched in horror as the thing coalesced in front of them amid the ruins of the roof. Crumbling plaster and boards rained down on them, one striking Shinobu square on the temple and knocking him flat to the ground. Miyagi abandoned Nowaki to deal with Hiroki, and shot across to heave Shinobu into his arms instead.

"Run!" he ordered.

The thing seemed to be playing with them now, crashing and destroying the corridor just behind them as they struggled to get to the technology room. Water pipes burst and wires sparked furiously, and the thing seemed to swell in size the further they got. By the time the technology room was in sight, it was three times the size it had originally been, arms almost long enough to grab them.

It paused to rip a fire extinguishers to shreds and they darted into the classroom, Akihiko slamming the door behind them as if it would have any effect.

"Here, Misaki!" Miyagi set Shinobu down and indicated for Misaki to take his shoulders. "Go out of the fire door. Get him away from the building and then run around to make sure everyone is being evacuated. Got it?"

"But I can't…" Misaki looked over at Akihiko, green eyes brimming with tears, but the blond boy stared back impassively.

"Go," Akihiko said, "Misaki, just go now!"

Choking a sob down, Misaki towed Shinobu away, hammering a hand against the bar on the emergency exit and kicking the door open. Miyagi made sure he was gone and turned to Nowaki, who was still holding Hiroki like the smaller boy weighed nothing.

"You get out too, Nowaki," he said, "Get the other three to safety and make sure they don't come back in."

"But you and Akihiko will still be here." Nowaki struggled for a second but overcame it on his own. "Right!" He tore out after Misaki, and Akihiko and Miyagi were left alone.

They had a second to exchange glances and Miyagi almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the lighter, holding it so tightly the plastic creaked in his grip.

With a low roaring sound, the doors burst open and the thing crashed through the frame, knocking tools and workbenches flying. Miyagi ducked to avoid being crushed by a band saw, and lunged forward. He would end this now.

A huge hand batted him away like he weighed nothing. He landed amidst the wreckage of a table, pain shooting out from his chest so badly he could barely breathe for a second. His grip on the lighter failed and it skittered away from his grasp, but the agony that was his ribcage as he fought for breathe distracted him.

There was a yelp, and a sickening thud. Brain struggling to work, Miyagi realised that Akihiko must have just met much the same fate. Now it was silent, except for the rushing of water, sparking of wires and the buzz of the fire alarms.

The creature was deciding which it would eat first, he realised, as a cold, long nailed hand closed about his ankle. It dragged him out of the carnage slowly, almost teasingly as it pulled him past his lighter, just beyond arm's reach.

He kicked out as strongly as he could, gasping when pain surged through his chest again, and spat at it. "Fuck you," he growled, not willing to give up yet. It didn't care. It leant down towards him, and opened its great, horrible mouth – an abyss lined with grey fangs. Miyagi closed his eyes as its stinking breath washed over his face.

There was the hiss of a match striking.

The world exploded.

* * *

Already the festival attendees were moving away from the school. The lights were all dying and the fire alarms were screeching, eerie shadows flickering through the windows as fires began to start on the destroyed floors. Misaki had pulled Shinobu all the way to the car park and left him in the care of a teacher he had spotted, when the ground shook and huge flames spewed out of the side of the building.

That was where the technology classroom was. Initial delight that the monster had to have been destroyed in those fires was crushed almost instantaneously by the realisation that Akihiko and Miyagi had been in there with it.

He started forward, intent on going back in, but Nowaki grabbed him about the waist and shouted that it would be suicide. Misaki slipped out of his grasp like a fish and wound through the shocked crowd, dodging frantically when he spotted his brother and Takahiro began to shout his name. Swiftly he butchered part of the apron he had been wearing for the cookery club, and tied it about his mouth, taking a deep breath of fresh air and running into the school again.

The hallways shimmered with heat, and smoke was pouring up from under the baseboards. Misaki ignored it all and headed determinedly for the technology class rooms.

Fire blocked his way at every turn.

Crying in desperation, he ran back outside. Now Nowaki was hovering close to the doors, the fear Misaki felt written large on his face, and this time he didn't try and stop the younger boy. Together they ran around to the side of the school, and this time braved the fire escape again, ignoring Miyagi's orders to stay away.

Inside was dark with lung clogging smoke. The walls blazed fiercely, and wreckage from what had been the ceiling was strewn about the ground.

There was no sign of the thing, but there were two human like shapes sprawled amid the debris. Nowaki grabbed the closest, turning him over and hauling him from under the wood and plaster – it was Miyagi. Misaki left him to it and leapt across the room, trying to keep his feet off the scorching ground as much as possible. He reached Akihiko's side and tried to haul him up, but the bigger was deeply unconscious and heavy. Nowaki had already dragged Miyagi out, and Misaki couldn't draw enough breath to call him back in. He threw all his energy and might into pulling Akihiko across the rubble strewn floor, but the remains of the ceiling was collapsing, and fire was threatening to block the escape. Misaki knew he should leave and abandon Akihiko, but there was no possible way he could do that. He just pulled harder and hoped Nowaki would return.

Thankfully, he did Big hands closed on Misaki's shoulders and pushed him towards the fire exit. Misaki, through eyes streaming with tears, saw Nowaki heave Akihiko up and start to safety himself before everything clicked and he moved too.

Outside the air was light and smoke free. Misaki tried to take a deep breath as his face hit the cold air, but his lungs spasmed and refused to inhale. He coughed and stuttered as he staggered the distance to where Nowaki had set Miyagi down and where he was currently collapsing, coughing dryly. Akihiko was sprawled out beside him, and Misaki staggered over. He wanted to reach out and check that Akihiko was still breathing, but it was just too hard to keep himself going.

He let the darkness pull him down.

* * *

**Wahey!** One more day and we're done!

Incidentally, don't do what Misaki and Nowaki did at the end. Not unless you're a fireman anyway.


	11. The Day After

**Thursday 1****st**** November**

* * *

The ceiling towered above him, a dirty off white colour. It hurt to move his eyes, let alone his head, so he just stared upwards and listened to the beep of machines, the pad of footsteps and the ring of voices and laughter.

Finally, someone leant over him and smiled; his eyes struggling to compensate for the sudden change in focus made their face blurry and their features indistinct.

"Good to see you awake Shinobu-kun!" It was a perky sounding woman. She reached out to fluff one of Shinobu's pillows and tucked his blanket a little further up his chest. "You've just missed your parents. They've gone out to get some breakfast, but they should be back soon. I'm Hina, and I'm a nurse here. Are you feeling up to talking to me?"

Shinobu moistened his dry lips with a raspy tongue and croaked, "I'm in hospital?"

"Yes, you were brought in late last night. Do you remember what happened?"

He struggled for a second but he could only remember waiting anxiously with Misaki, and then the was vague recollection of Akihiko appearing. After that was a blurry mess, and he knew there was stuff missing, he just wasn't sure what it was. "I remember being outside," he said slowly, "And I know I must have gone in... But I don't remember that bit."

"That's alright said the nurse. "There was an accident at the school, and you got a nasty blow to the head. You've been unconscious since, but the doctor's aren't too worried. They've given you plenty of scans, so they're confident you should be fine eventually. How are you feeling now?"

"Bad," said Shinobu, not concerned about being brave anymore. "My heads hurts and I feel sick."

"I'll ask one of the doctors to have a quick look at you then," she said, smoothing his sheets down again. "Don't worry. This is how people often feel after head injuries."

Shinobu groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. Bits and pieces of the last night's events were starting to come back to him, and now he could remember the shadow bursting out through the walls, the spluttering of pipes and sparking of wires. He could distantly remember Akihiko's face, dripping fresh blood, and Hiroki's, pale in unconsciousness. Misaki had been still in his apron from his stall. What about the others?

"Did anyone else get out?" He asked. Miyagi had been soaked through, yes it was coming back now, and so had Nowaki. "Are they OK?"

The nurse said, "There were some others brought in from your school. I'm sure they're all fine."

"Find out for me?" Shinobu begged, managing to move one of his hands to grasp hers. "Please, my friends were there too!"

"I'll see what I can do." Carefully, she pried herself free, and Shinobu just didn't have to energy to cling anymore. "You try to stay awake for a few minutes and I'll get the doctor and call your parents back OK?"

Unable to do anything else, Shinobu went back to staring at the ceiling.

* * *

Nowaki was almost sure he really didn't need to be occupying a bed, but the doctors and nurses had insisted.

He had come back around lying on the ground in front of the school, swathed in tinfoil blankets and with an oxygen mask strapped to his face. There had been a small queue of ambulances nearby, and huge fire trucks looming around the place. The school had continued to blaze ferociously, but the amount of water being pumped onto it was gradually dimming the flames.

Once they had been sure he was feeling a bit better, a small collection of paramedics had loaded him onto a trolley and put him into one of the waiting ambulances. He had tried to ask about the others, but his throat and chest had hurt too much to talk and the attempts had sent him into paroxysms of coughs. They had continued to ply him with oxygen and had stabbed a couple of needles into his arms for purposes he wasn't entirely sure of.

At the hospital he had received yet more oxygen, had a few vials of blood taken and then was stood in front of an x-ray machine. Finally, he had been told he should be all right and was promptly sent upstairs anyway, to a bed that neighboured Misaki's. The younger boy had already been asleep, ash and soot displaced onto his pillow and a thick scent of burning in the air. Nowaki had dozed as well, waking every time the staff came around to check on the patients, and come morning he had felt significantly better in terms of his chest and the flecked burns on his face and arms.

On the other hand one of his shoulders felt as though it had frozen up entirely, his back was stiff and his legs ached in symphony. A doctor had poked and prodded and manhandled his limbs and decided he had a few strained muscles - probably from hauling people out of the fire - given him some ibuprofen and hurtled off to some other job instead. Nowaki had rested uncomfortably until midday, until his parents had turned up.

"Nowaki!" His mother fell onto him in an uncharacteristic display of emotion - she normally kept a cheery face for the younger children. "We were so worried! What happened?"

His father scrubbed Nowaki's hair, grimacing at the fall of ash that emerged from it with the contact. "We wanted to come last night, but the kids..."

Nowaki had never expected them to show - they had a house full of children and babies that needed looking after, and while some staff came around during the day, they were alone at night -and said that it had been all right. He would never fault them for the level of care they had given him; related by blood or not, they had named him, cared for him and brought him up and done a good job at all of them.

"There was an explosion," he said, not entirely sure how he could explain it without sounding insane. "My friends and I had gone inside to get out of the chill for a bit and then the walls just started caving in... We got trapped at one end of the school, and I helped a couple of the wounded out, but the smoke got to me."

"I don't know why we let you go to that school," said his mother, "Clearly it's a death trap! The story's all over the news."

"They're saying its shoddy wiring to blame at the moment. An electrical explosion or something." his father shook his head again. "You were very brave to go back in. But -" He carefully pried his wife off the boy and grabbed Nowaki's shoulders gently. "Don't you ever do something so bloody dangerous again, you hear?"

"I won't," said Nowaki honestly.

"You better," said his mother, fixing him with a glare. "I don't want to be woken up in the middle of the night again by the police telling me that one of my children is going to hospital with smoke inhalation injuries."

"I _certainly_ won't run into a fire again anytime soon," said Nowaki. His mouth still tasted of soot and his burns stung anew with the words.

They chatted for a good couple hours, before his parents had to return home to deal with the evening rush of children. A doctor had visited and said Nowaki would be released the next morning - they were keeping him there to be sure that the smoke he had breathed in wasn't causing any further problems - and his parents had gone with the promise they would back then to take him home.

Nowaki had never felt quite so sad to see his parents go as he did then. Which was silly because he was a sixteen year old boy, and he didn't need their constant attention at all. But his mind still reeled from the events of the day before, and his body ached all over, and sometimes there wasn't much that could cure that but a little TLC.

He wanted to see Hiro-san as well, but no one seemed to know where he was in the hospital, or how was getting on. The only one Nowaki had seen was Misaki, who was still in the bed beside him and looking better now he'd had a shower to wash off the ash and his brother was installed at his bedside to keep him company.

Though he should really do the same, Nowaki rolled himself tighter into his blankets instead and decided he would get some sleep.

* * *

As soon as Akihiko realised that he was alone in his hospital room - a side room off the main ward by the quiet gloom that surrounded him- he tried to sit up, lost all his balance entirely and toppled himself off the bed, dragging a whole collection of IV lines and tubes with him. He landed heavily on his right arm, promptly nearly biting through his tongue with the sheer pain of it.

Alarms blared, making his aching head throb more and the door slammed open, making him twitch and hiss in shock. A quartet of nurses, and a flustered looking doctor, managed to get him place back into the bed, lines reattached and the rails raised to prevent him falling out again.

His chest ached uncomfortably, and his arm was still quite intensely sore. The doctor examined it thoughtfully and announced he had managed to worsen the break.

"I didn't know it was broken," he slurred, tongue not working quite the way he wanted it to. He had watched as the nurses had had to bare various parts of his skin to replace the lines he'd dragged out, and he was covered in painful little flecks of burns that he didn't remember getting. Half of his throat felt hot, like it was still burning away merrily to itself and the backs of both his ankles felt much the same.

"Must have been when the ceiling fell in," said the doctor unhelpfully, not looking up from his clipboard. Akihiko made a note to not talk to this man again about any of his aches and pains if he could, and set to ignoring him until he growled in exasperation and went away. He was replaced by a nurse, who was young, female and far nicer. She even introduced some drugs to Akihiko's system which made the throbbing heat of his burns die away and left his arm in only a mild discomfort.

"You have been through the wars," she said, "And you didn't help yourself with your tumble there."

"Should have run away to the circus when I was younger," said Akihiko, eyes drifting shut for a moment. Whatever concoction of drugs he was on, he liked it. "Have I really broken my arm?"

"A nice little fracture of your upper arm, so you'll have some scars to match the wounds on your hand. They'll have you in for surgery by the end of the day." She tucked the blankets up to his shoulders. "Have another nap and try not to rip your IVs out again when you wake up this time."

Akihiko woke up the second time to find a dark shadow standing in his room, silhouetted by the faint light that drifted through his curtains. But no! He'd set fire to the thing! It had gone up like a firework! It couldn't be fucking back!

And then it spoke. "If you think of jumping out of that bed again, Akihiko, I will personally drag you back into it myself."

It was his father.

"They told you?" He mumbled, having to focus very hard to force the words through the fog of drugs and fear.

"That, and you do it every single time you wake up in a hospital bed." His father stepped away from the window and Akihiko's vision struggled to focus on anything but the deep blackness of the man's expensive suit. "How on earth do you get yourself into these situations?"

"Luck," said Akihiko sourly. "_I_ didn't set the place on fire."

"As many quirks as you have, you haven't shown any sign of becoming a budding arsonist, that's true." He lifted something form his seat and set it at Akihiko's side. With a painful twist of his head - the burns at the side of his throat sticking and rubbing sorely - he spotted that it was a newspaper, and tried to bend his arm up to fetch it. His father, showing signs of paternal attention that he had so far been lacking, grabbed it for him and showed him the front page.

The school blazed merrily in the muted colours of newspaper print. The headline and subtitle was just big enough that Akihiko could make out words like 'explosion and 'injured'.

"Made the front page. I was thirty before I managed that."

Akihiko tried to smile, his the old wounds on the left side of his face prevented much movement. "How are the others?" he asked.

"Well, they brought six of you in." His father scanned down the article beneath the headline absently. "The Kamijou boy had some nasty wounds, but he went into surgery as soon as he arrived, and should be fine. Who else was there?"

Akihiko thought through the night. Shinobu had been unconscious earlier on… Miyagi had been in the room with him when the monster had gone up in flames… But since he himself had gotten out, and the explosion had knocked him unconscious, he could only suppose someone came back to help.

"There was a Miyagi? Knocked out, broken ribs, nothing too serious. And a Takatsuki who was dragged out before hand, but he's awake and fine. The other two have some burns and smoke inhalation, but they'll be free by tomorrow morning."

Akihiko relaxed again. That was a relief, even when delivered in a vague, disinterested tone.

"You look dreadful," said Usami Fuyuhiko suddenly, in an almost kind voice. Akihiko rolled his eyes, and cautiously raised his left hand to rub his wounded cheek. "You were lucky to get out of there alive."

"Mm hmm." Akihiko's eyes drifted shut again. He wanted to sleep more, to wake up with no more pain and no more twitching fear that the monster would come back.

"Who were you trying to save?"

"Everyone," said Akihiko, not entirely coherently, forcing his eyes open again. "What do you mean?"

"Someone didn't make it out alive." His father closed the paper and set it on his lap, fixing his son with a soft stare. Akihiko looked back blearily, confusion on his pale face. "They found the bones in the ash this afternoon, not far from where you were dragged out."

Everyone had already been accounted for in Akihiko's head, and he did a mental roll call to check, but the numbers came out the same. Then a thought struck him, and he struggled to school his face into something appropriate for the announcement of a death.

They'd found the monster's bones.

* * *

**Haha!** Everyone is alive!

Except Igarashi-sensei and the monster, but they were both assholes, so that's ok!

They'll be another couple updates, probably this Sunday, next Monday, just to tie everything up. Until then, I hope you had a good Halloween, any hangovers you may have go away soon and that no one was actually attacked by a swamp monster.


	12. Four Days After

**Sunday 4****th**** November**

* * *

Even though Hiroki's wounds are well stitched and bandaged, he's still feeling very battered. He had woken from surgery on the Friday and had spent the next day tottering about the ward and feeling very sorry for himself indeed. His legs had been well gnawed on, his hands scratched and swollen and deep fang marks on his arms and torso.

The doctors had been suspicious, rightly, about the source of his wounds. They did genuinely look like tooth marks, rather than crush injuries, but Hiroki had stuck to his story about not knowing what had happened. Someone had suggested that it had been from when the school had exploded, and then Hiroki had clung to that story instead.

Also on Saturday, a battered Akihiko had stumbled his way to Hiroki's side room and then had spent a few hours chatting. They hadn't touched on the events of the past fortnight, which Hiroki would have quite liked to talk about but Akihiko was clearly not keen on that idea at all.

"What did happen after it got me?" Hiroki had demanded once, tiring of Akihiko's evasiveness over the subject.

Akihiko had looked away, raising his uncast bound hand to scratch his unwounded cheek, and had sighed. "Nowaki, Miyagi and I chased it down and got you back. And that pissed it off a bit."

"Someone said the school exploded," Hiroki had pried.

"It did." Akihiko touched the exposed burn on his throat and winced. "Spectacularly."

Hiroki had narrowed his eyes and asked, "Did you have anything to do with that?"

Akihiko had rolled his gaze over to the open door and had said, "Of course not. They say it was faulty wiring."

Hiroki had been unable to get anything else out of his friend, and they had gone back to the conversation topics that Akihiko was comfortable with.

On Sunday, Hiroki spent the morning persuading his parents that going home would be a good idea. The doctors had suggested that he should be able to return home by Monday, and Hiroki was frankly more than keen on the idea; being in hospital, smelling of antiseptic and illness, sterile and filled with nurses and doctors and screaming, crying children. Hiroki wanted to go home.

His parents had been less keen- worried about his wounds and how they would care for them, and if there was any secondary damage. But Hiroki had worn them down with puppy-dog looks and badgering and generally being much more stubborn than both of them put together. Part of his problem with staying was that Akihiko was due to leave on Monday as well, and Hiroki didn't know where any of the other boys were in the hospital.

Finally, with the decision made that he could indeed go home, Hiroki was spending his last day in hospital hobbling back and forth across his room to help build up his strength again. It was mostly stiffness and pain that kept him still, but his legs did feel a bit weaker than they normally did.

During one of his traipses across the room, someone knocked at the door. Scowling, he was expecting a nurse to attempt to do something painful to his person again, he looked over and was intensely surprised.

Standing there smiling like a complete idiot, and armed with flowers of all things, was Nowaki.

"You look so much better, Hiro-san!" The younger boy exclaimed, before Hiroki could even speak himself. "I brought you flowers!"

"Uh-huh." Hiroki looked at the flowers, looked back up at Nowaki's eager, delighted face, and decided he couldn't be snappy about that. "Um, thanks." He waved over at one of the side tables and said he could set the stuff down there. As Nowaki did that Hiroki hobbled back over to his bed and eased himself down carefully.

"How are you feeling, Hiro-san?" asked Nowaki, sitting down in the bedside chair.

"I'm all right. The bandages are a bit annoying." He prodded one of them to demonstrate, wincing when he jabbed himself right in the stitches. "They say I'll have the scars for a while."

Nowaki's sunny expression faded slightly, but swiftly swung back into position. "When are you going home?"

"Tomorrow!" Hiroki smiled. "No more screaming children to disturb my sleep."

"Hiro-san would struggle in my house," laughed Nowaki. "A undisturbed night of sleep would be a new idea there."

Hiroki smiled wryly at the thought, and his eyes lit on Nowaki's hands where it sat on the edge of the bed. The previously unblemished skin was flecked with red and purple burns and bruises, and Hiroki felt a momentarily blip of rage at the thing that had harmed his Nowaki so.

"How are you?" he blurted, still staring at the burns. When he realised he was staring, he jerked his gaze up and noticed a little trail of marks on Nowaki's face instead. He scowled again, vowing that if the thing hadn't been destroyed already, he himself would hunt the damn thing down and beat it into a pulp.

"I'm fine Hiro-san," said Nowaki, happily. "I've got a few burns." He touched his face gingerly, smoothing over the blips of red skin on his jawline. "And I pulled a couple muscles as well."

Hiroki cringed, realising why that had happened. Nowaki had had to have been the one to carry him, from wherever that the monster had taken him to the school and then out again. He blushed and thanked the other boy; Nowaki merely smiled brightly and said it was nothing.

"You kept saving me," said Hiroki, scowling again. He hated to feel useless.

"I couldn't let anything happen to my Hiro-san," said Nowaki firmly, a more serious look flashing onto his face. "You would have done the same for me."

This was true and Hiroki nodded in agreement, pride making him add, "I would have done a better job of it too."

Nowaki only laughed, "Yes, of course, Hiro-san." He reached out and took Hiroki's hand. "I'm really glad you're ok. I was really worried."

"I'm fine," mumbled Hiroki, looking down at where their hands were clasped. "That stupid thing wasn't going to take me down." He allowed himself a little blushing smile when Nowaki squeezed his hand tighter. "We're fine," he added.

Nowaki kissed him briefly, and Hiroki didn't even care that the door was still open.

* * *

Miyagi was packing his things to leave that Sunday, when Shinobu crept into his room and nervously cleared his throat for attention.

"Brat!" Miyagi grinned brightly and scrubbed the boy's hair, lifting his hand immediately when he saw the thunderous growl that dawned on Shinobu's face. "Uh… You all right?"

"We both nearly died, and you greet me like that?!" he shrieked, like a little tea kettle letting off steam. Miyagi resisted the urge to block his ears from the noise and hurried to shut the room door before a curious nurse came investigating.

"All right, all right," he said, placing calming hands on Shinobu's thin shoulders. Up close he could see the dark marks under the boy's eyes, the bruises on his pale skin and the tiredness in his gaze. "You look dreadful."

"Oh, thank you." Shinobu had subsided back to a general level of sulkiness. "Head injuries ache for ages afterwards, apparently."

"You've been worrying about the thing too, huh?" Miyagi gently petted the fawn blond hair this time. Shinobu started and blustered something about not being worried, but Miyagi knew the truth. "Don't. It's dead and gone. I saw it go up in flames."

Shinobu's grey eyes scanned his face, clearly taking in the burns on his cheeks and the singed tips of his hair. "What if it comes back?" he asked, quietly. "It mightn't be gone."

Miyagi pulled away for a second and went searching for something, finding it quickly under his pillow. His father had dropped by twice, bringing this with him the second time and leaving it at Miyagi's request. His wounds had distracted his parents' worries and woes about him, and while they weren't entirely back to normal, there was a new air of familiar civility that Miyagi hadn't realised he had missed.

"What's this?" Shinobu took the paper from Miyagi and grimaced at the sight on the front page; the remains of the school smouldering petulantly.

"Read this paragraph." Miyagi tapped a selected line and watched as the boy read it.

"Bones?" he said, quietly. "But I thought everyone got out?"

"Everyone did," said Miyagi. He had spotted Nowaki as he was leaving on Thursday, and Misaki on the same day. Hiroki had been spotted hobbling around the ward, and Akihiko had paused to chat with him for a few minutes, quietly corroborating both their stories. "Those are the monster's bones. They say had heat warped them so badly they barely looked human anymore."

"But that's because they weren't human in the first place," said Shinobu, folding the paper up and throwing in onto the bed. He was smiling now, the tiredness now replaced with a glimmer of life. Miyagi beamed down at him.

Shinobu stood up on his tiptoes and kissed him. For once Miyagi had no qualms about kissing him back. They were both alive and well enough and that was enough reason for celebration.

When they broke apart, Shinobu was crimson with his blush and Miyagi was feeling very smug indeed. Instead of embarrassing the boy further – not a great idea in the middle of a busy hospital, full of staff who might tell his parents about his latest indiscretion – he started to pack again.

His ribs still twinged painfully whenever he over stretched, over even breathed deeply, but Miyagi refused to let it stop him moving normally. He thought he had been doing a good job, until Shinobu stepped up and told him to sit down.

"Or what will you do?" asked Miyagi, sitting down obediently anyway. His ribs did really ache badly now.

"You don't want to know," said Shinobu darkly. He attempted to fold a pair of Miyagi's pyjamas and failed, balling them up and shoving them in regardless. "Are you going to go back?"

"Huh?" Miyagi had been distracted trying to figure out if it was time for his pain meds yet.

"To school. They're using a temporary building now until the old one's repaired. People will be going back tomorrow." He shoved in a pair of socks willy-nilly and Miyagi rolled his eyes.

"Not tomorrow. Not until my ribs stop throbbing."

"But you will go back?" Shinobu asked quietly. "If you don't, then we won't see each other as much."

Miyagi smiled and shook his head. "Yeah, I'm going back. As long as they think it was their shitty wiring that nearly killed me, rather than ourselves, I'm going to be free of any suspicion. I need to do well in this year anyway."

"So we'll see each other there?" Shinobu had definitely perked up, and even managed to tuck a pair of slippers in the bag in a neat fashion.

"Every day until the end of this year," said Miyagi firmly, beckoning for the boy to come closer to him. "And then we'll figure something out. I don't see why not."

Shinobu kissed him again. All was well.

* * *

"You look terrible." Misaki's eyes were already filling with sympathetic tears, and he willed himself to be less weepy.

In his bed, notebook propped on his knee and pen clasped in the wrong hand, Usagi-san did indeed look terrible. Nearly every inch of visible skin was covered in some sort of bruise, burn, cut or scab, and his right arm was well bound in a substantial looking cast. He was smiling, but Misaki didn't think that negated many of the injuries.

"It's good to see you too." Akihiko set down the notebook, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to him for Misaki to sit down.

Misaki chose a spot a little further away, afraid that he might knock one of the multiple wounds or that Akihiko would attempt something that might hurt himself further.

"You saved me," said Akihiko, when Misaki didn't say anything more. He gently elbowed Misaki in the ribs with his good arm and smiled down at him. "Thank you. I wish you hadn't risked yourself to do so though."

"What other choice did I have?" Misaki barked, resisting the urge to elbow the other boy back. "Was I supposed to let you bur-"

"Misaki." Akihiko stooped his head a little and pressed his lips to Misaki's. The younger boy squeaked in shock, but it did stop the spillage of angry words, and he was almost grateful for that – certainly he was less annoyed than he would have otherwise been.

"You should warn me before you do that!" he grumbled, touching his lips and trying not to show his blush.

"I'll remember that for next time," grinned Akihiko, scrubbing Misaki's hair. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm not bad anymore. I had a bit of a cough from saving you. The smoke got to my lungs, they said. But they allowed me out on Friday, so I didn't mind."

Akihiko shook his head. "You didn't get burned?"

Misaki touched the one livid spot on his hand, where an ember had settled and burnt into his skin. A big, pale hand settled over his own, cooling any residual heat away.

"It's not too bad," he said, looking up and catching a glimpse of the nasty burn on the side of Akihiko's throat. Tears began to well up again, and a sob escaped, despite his best efforts.

"Misaki, what's wrong?" Akihiko dropped to his knees next to the bed, kneeling between Misaki's thighs and touching his face with his one good hand. Misaki blinked away a few tears and looked down at the battered face of the older student, creased with worry.

"I thought you were going to die, idiot!" he wailed. "And I went back into the fire to find you and I could barely get you out, and you had told me to go away, but I had to come back. And I don't know if the monster's gone or not, and I really hope it is, because I don't want to have to fight it again, and you'll do more stupid things and you barely survived this time!" Misaki gasped in a breath and then clapped both his hands to his face.

To his surprise, Akihiko chuckled and kissed him again.

"You are silly," he said. "Trust me, it's gone. I know."

"How?"

Akihiko paused. "Just trust me. You don't want to know, but I know. It's definitely gone."

Misaki took one look at Akihiko's face and then decided that he definitely didn't want to know the specifics at all. He could be content just knowing that Akihiko knew somehow.

"Feeling better to have got all that out of your system?" Akihiko rumbled, wiping a tear off Misaki's face.

"Like you've never had a bad day," said Misaki.

"I'd think that last Wednesday counted as one for me," suggested Akihiko, mildly. Misaki made a face at him and grumbled when he received another kiss for his troubles. "Oh, sorry, should have warned you…"

Misaki made a face and didn't complain this time. He wiped the rest of the tears from his cheeks as Akihiko gingerly heaved himself up and sat back down on the bed.

"I'm going back into school on Monday," said Misaki, suddenly, "They put temporary buildings up, and Takahiro thinks I should try to get back into the scheme of it as quickly as I can."

"Probably a good idea."

He cast a curious look up at the blond boy and asked, "Are you coming back?"

"Of course." Akihiko looked bemused as to why he would ask such a question. "Why?"

"I thought you might not want to come back…"

Usagi-san shrugged, leaning his weight back onto his one good arm. "I might as well finish school off where I started. I think I'm safe there now anywhere – my father was fairly annoyed about the whole situation, and I think he may have threatened to sue someone. So no more threats of expulsion for me." He grinned brightly. "So there will be plenty more times in storerooms for us."

"You pervert!" Misaki squeaked in rage.

"Oh you love it." Akihiko slung a heavy arm over Misaki's shoulders, nuzzling his head down against Misaki's.

Misaki decided not to complain again. Everything was good like this.

* * *

**And we are done!** Huzzah! For what was a momentarily blaze of inspiration, this spooled out into something much bigger, and I'm pleased with most of it. I'll do the correcting after NaNoWriMo is done, but for now I'm off to focus on that instead.

Thank you to all reviewers and readers! I'm sorry I haven't replied to many of your reviews – it's been a busy couple weeks, even without all the writing! -, but I do appreciate every bit of feedback I get.

Until next time, my dahlings! FLC.


End file.
